Drowning
by Greenstuff
Summary: Andy runs to Sam after a truly terrible day. This is the fallout... Series of one-per-episode vingettes picking up after 107, now complete post 211.  This story contains content suitable for ADULTS ONLY.
1. Drowning

"You wanna talk?"

"No."

And then her hands were on his stomach, pushing him backwards until his back met solid wall, and her lips were on his. It was a moment before his body caught up, his brain was slower and by the time he kicked it into gear he'd already wrapped a hand around her and pulled her against him so he could thoroughly explore the inside of her mouth with his tongue. Even as his mind flashed up warnings like fireworks, he couldn't tear his lips from hers, his hands from her taught body.

He shut the door behind them as he half pushed half carried her to his room. She slid her hands under his shirt, pulling it off effortlessly. Turnabout was fair play and her shirt joined his in a heap on the covers. Her skin was tanned and smooth under his hands. He lifted her feet off the floor so she could wrap her legs around him.

It wasn't enough. He wanted all of her, spread over all of him. Sam could drown in her and die happy.

He lay her back against his pillows. His lips traveled to her throat and she gasped aloud. The sound shot straight to his pelvis and he ground against her.

Their kisses sped up in tandem with the thrusts of their hips. Even through the thick fabric of their jeans Sam could feel heat and need. He grabbed her ass and angled her hip so his growing erection pressed against her clit through their jeans. She pushed up against him, responding to the increased contact with a moan at the back of her throat and the tightening of her hand at the back of his neck.

And then, with a brief flicker, every light in the house turned on at once, harsh light bleaching out the warm glow of candle light. They stilled. Andy's hand which had wrapped around his neck, pulling his lips to hers, slid down and came to rest against his abs, her eyes were closed, her head tilted back, breath coming out in short, heavy puffs. She'd never looked so beautiful.

"The power's back on."

Her eyes opened and she cast a quick glance around the room. There was a flicker of guilt in her gaze. Sam told himself it was residual guilt from the shooting that afternoon. She'd done the right thing. If she'd hesitated, failed to pull the trigger, she would be dead. Of this Sam was certain.

"I guess this means everything goes back to normal," Andy's voice was rough.

Sam studied her eyes for several breathless seconds. Her gaze was steady, pupils dilated by lust despite the bright lights. The blaring of his TV from the next room was ruining the mood. "I should just go turn a few things off," he said, flashing her a smile.

Sam made quick work of the lights and TV. Returning his place to murky darkness punctuated by the warm glow of candles. When he returned to his room, to Andy, he found her sitting at the edge of his bed, pulling her tank top back on.

The guilt in her expression told him everything his brain had failed to before any of this started. She wasn't here for him, Sam. She was running away. Trying to wipe out the pain of her first shooting, drown the guilt of taking a life in sex. Of course she was. He was an idiot.

The only reason she was even here, with him, instead of in the bed of Luke Callaghan was because Luke was too busy digging for bones to realize what he was missing out on. What Sam now knew he would give up almost anything to have for himself.

He leaned one shoulder against the wall, eyes fastened on Andy's face. "Yeah, I guess everything is back to normal."

Andy's face was a mask of guilt and pain as she hugged her knees to her chest. She barely met his eyes before ducking her head so her hair hid her face.

Sam wanted to wrap her in his arms. Instead, he turned and walked away.

He wasn't angry with her, surprising, but there it was. She was doing what came naturally to everyone, escaping. The fact that he'd let it get beyond that first kiss was on him, one hundred percent. He was her training officer. She had to trust him, it was a necessity of the job, and he'd abused that trust. She'd come to him, in pain, seeking release any way she knew how. He knew she'd killed someone. He knew she hadn't dealt with it, he'd heard the raw pain in her voice at the station when she refused to talk about it. It was why he'd told her to call him if she needed anything. Then she'd shown up at his house and he'd happily carted her to his bed. Idiot didn't begin to cover it.

He pulled a lukewarm beer from his fridge, he would have to clean it out tomorrow thanks to the twelve hours without power, and popped the top off into the garbage before settling at the kitchen table. He sipped in silence.

After several minutes he heard the sound of her feet in the hall. He waited, perfectly still, for the click of his front door. It didn't come.

"I'm not a cheater." Her voice, still gravelly as if she'd been crying for hours, came from the doorway behind him.

Sam turned to face her. He couldn't make out her features in the dimly lit room. He hadn't bothered to turn on any lights. "Callaghan?" he asked. He gestured to the table, a silent offer to come sit.

She nodded and came to sit across from him. "I'm sorry."

"Beer?" He offered, "It's warm, but still drinkable."

"Thanks."

He popped the lid off, "Glass?"

"No." She took the bottle and drained a third of it in one swallow.

"Want to talk about it?" He offered for the third time that day.

She sighed, loudly. "Not really," she answered honestly. "But… " she drained the rest of the beer in a few swallows. "I guess wanting to isn't the point?"

Sam grabbed each of them another beer from his fridge while he considered the best way to respond. "Sometimes it helps."

"He just wouldn't stop… he went for the gun and I... panicked." Andy shook her head and took a long swig from the bottle. "I didn't think about it.. it wasn't a decision.. I just… fired."

"You did the right thing."

"I didn't even think about it, I just killed him." She sighed. "Now they're doing a review and I can't work until they're done, so I have to what? Just sit at home and do nothing?"

"Andy, you did the _right_ thing." Sam stood and walked around to her side of the table. Crouching down, he rested both hands gently on her face and turned her so she was looking directly at him. He could see the flame of the candles he'd left burning on the counter reflected in her pupils. "You did what any good cop would have done."

A single tear escaped her eye and trickled down over Sam's hand.

"You saved a little girl today." Sam said softly, not letting her look away, "Focus on that."

She closed her eyes and three more tears trickled down her cheeks and over Sam's hands. His heart lurched.

Slowly, gently, Sam pulled her against his chest and wrapped both arms around her as she cried. "It's ok," He whispered into her hair. "You're ok."

He was acutely aware that he was still shirtless as her tears trickled down his skin as she sobbed against him. He stroked her hair and continued to whisper words of assurance until the sobs subsided and he felt her breathing even out.

"Let me drive you home." He said softly, pulled away so he could look at her face.

She shook her head, "I can't…" She looked down at her hands, "I don't want to be alone tonight."

Sam considered calling Callaghan for a split second before telling himself that if that was what Andy wanted she would have said so. "Ok, I just washed the sheets this morning so you take the bed. I'll be on the couch if you need anything."

He stood, but her hand on his, stopped him from stepping away.

"Can you stay with me? Just to sleep…" Her eyes pleaded with him to agree.

He couldn't say no.

When the dawn broke and the first rays of light woke Sam, he was alone in his bed. Only the lingering scent of Andy and the indented pillow beside him proved he hadn't imagined the entire night. He stretched and headed for the kitchen.

There was a piece of paper on the table along with four beer bottles, two of them nearly full. He read the brief note and smiled.

_Sam, _

_Thank you._

_Sorry to leave before you woke up, but there's something I have to do._

_I'll see you at work._

_ -Andy_


	2. Free Fall

A/N: I didn't intend to expand Drowning into anything else.. but 108 left a larger mess in my brain than 107 so here we go...

* * *

**Free Fall**

"Heard you had quite a day," Oliver Shaw slid his beer glass onto the bar top by Sam's elbow before taking a seat.

Sam cringed. This was one of those days he would rather not remember. From the decision to buy McNally a coffee- extra milk, extra hot- to baiting Callaghan, beating Callaghan, to letting his bruised ego get in the way of his job as her Training Officer... Not a single choice he'd made all day had been right.

"You look like hell," he turned to Shaw and tried to smile like his world wasn't imploding.

"Back at you." Oliver held Sam's gaze for a few seconds. "Seriously though, what's going on with you Sammy?"

Shotgunning the remainder of his whiskey Sam looked around the mostly deserted penny to make sure no one else from 15 was in hearing range before speaking, "You were right."

Oliver was not the gloating type. He simply nodded and signaled for two more drinks. "McNally?" He asked, though he was pretty sure that was the only possibility.

Sam nodded. "Yeah." He rubbed both hands over his face. "I am an idiot."

"It wouldn't be a rule if it didn't happen."

"Right, and how is this supposed to make me feel better?"

"It's not. I'm just saying, you're not the first."

They sipped their whiskeys in silence for several minutes, each lost in their own thoughts. Sam's thoughts were infuriatingly one track tonight and he went over the entire day's events for the tenth time.

McNally's first day back since the shooting, the first time he's seen her since that night when he'd fallen asleep with her head buried against his chest and woken to her note, _There's something I have to do_. He'd thought she meant breaking it off with Callaghan, not running straight back into the blonde detective's waiting arms. So he'd broken it off with Monica once and for all and brought Andy coffee, an offering, an invitation, a piping hot beverage that landed in the trash. To think he'd been worried Callaghan would know that Sam was the reason Andy was breaking it off, God he was an idiot.

"What are you going to do?" Oliver's question broke through Sam's thoughts.

Sam shook his head. He had no idea. His feelings for Andy were getting in the way of his job. But if he requested a different Rookie he would have to explain why, and that was not a conversation he wanted to have. Ever. Which left him with only one option. "Nothing. I'm her training officer, besides she's uh.. she'd involved with Callaghan."

"Which explains why you tried to kill him in retrain today," Oliver's smile took any sting of accusation out of his words. "Seriously Sammy, this is me. What are you going to do?"

"Get very, very drunk." Sam replied, signaling the bartender to bring him another.

* * *

Luke was exactly what Andy needed. The kind of good guy who always seemed to evade her in the past. He had a good job which he loved, he didn't push her or pressure her, he let her have her space, and he was thoughtful, when he wasn't wrapped up in a case. He was a good kisser and the sex was warm and delicious and made her feel safe. He was the kind of man mothers wanted their children to find and hang on to.

So why was she sitting on the front porch to Luke's fishing cabin staring up at the night sky while her naked boyfriend slept inside? Wishing she'd never suggested getting out of Toronto for the night. Wishing she'd never let Luke buy her that first drink. Thinking of how Sam's kisses sent a hot trail of fire from her lips to the base of her spine.

Sam.

Sam was exactly what Andy didn't need. He was her Training Officer – against the rules. He was guarded and jealous with a temper and a tendency towards violence. He was everything Andy didn't want… so why had she run to him? Why was it, when she was in trouble, his was the first voice of reason she sought out? Why did his mouth feel so right on hers?

The memory of his lips against her throat, his hands on her skin, his hips pressed against hers set her heart beating double time. Sam was everything she shouldn't want. And he was everything she craved. She wanted to let the fire that burned in her at his touch consume her. But when the lights had come on and reality had reared its ugly head she'd done what she always did she over thought and then she ran.

Andy had always had tragic taste in men. She blamed her mother. What teenager growing up without a mother wouldn't use men just to feel. The sad thing was, she thought she'd outgrown it. When she told Traci she was done with the wrong men, she'd meant it. She really thought Luke was the answer. She was an idiot.

And now…

Andy sighed and pulled her sweater more tightly around her shoulders. Now she had crossed a line she never wanted to. She'd buried her pain in Sam. And now when she looked him in the eye she could see the pain mirrored back at her. She'd buried her pain in him alright. She'd handed it off to him and he shouldered it. She hated and loved him for it.

Mostly she hated herself.

She watched a falling star burn brightly for half a second before sputtering out near the tree lined horizon.

Her world was crumbling. She didn't know when the first crack had appeared, but the shooting last week had knocked the last stone out from under her and catapulted her into a freefall. Selfishly she'd reached out for the first solid thing her fingers could find, Sam.

She'd barged into his home, let him take her to his bed and then pulled away. She'd confided in him and let his strong arms be her anchor while she cried herself to sleep. For a brief, glorious moment in the predawn when she woke feeling grounded and optimistic she'd allowed herself to believe she and Sam could do this. She'd scribbled a hasty note, she didn't even remember what was in it, and walked out of his apartment with every intention to end things with Luke. Less than a block away, doubts had crept back in and by the time she reached home and found Luke asleep on her porch with a cold cup of coffee beside him she knew she couldn't do it.

It wasn't a proud moment. It was cowardly and cruel. Her stomach churned with guilt as she kissed Luke awake and led him up to her apartment. If it was Sam's face she saw when she closed her eyes, she would never admit it.

Luke was a good guy. And so she stayed, hoping that if she faked it hard enough the butterflies in her stomach would learn to flutter at the sight of him, her skin would learn to crave his touch and her traitorous heart would learn to sing his name. Fake it 'til you make it.


	3. Goodbye

"What's going on with you and Swarek?"

Andy froze for a second, her heart pounding. She dusted off her fingers and turned her best blank face to him, "What do you mean?"

Luke raised his glass and rattled the ice cubes.

Andy suddenly remembered the jar of water, the yellow post-it with Sam Swarek written on it, sitting right there in her freezer for anyone to see. _Brilliant idea Andy. You could have at least hid it behind the frozen peas. _

"Secrets Andy, they don't work. They never do."

"I don't want secrets." _Except this one_, her traitorous mind piped up. She told it to shut up and took several steps towards Luke.

"Then tell me the truth." He turned towards her, but his face was guarded. "I can't help you if you don't tell me the truth," his voice was gentle, coaxing. It was the voice he used on suspected murderers.

"Don't do that." She held up a finger, to stop his words or her guilt she wasn't sure which. "I'm not a suspect Luke."

"Ok," His voice sharpened with anger, "and I'm not blind."

She sighed. This, right here, was what she didn't want, didn't need. Luke was supposed to be simple. He was the easy pick, the right kind of guy… but she was Andy McNally, train wreck. She should have known it would all go sideways.

"It was one night," she explained.

Luke shook his head and looked away. When his haze returned to hers his game face was gone, hurt, anger and disbelief in its place.

"I didn't even sleep with him!" _I want—wanted to._ She corrected herself, of course she didn't' still want to have sex with Swarek. _Liar._ "I—"

"Then what did you do?"

"Nothing," she couldn't meet his eyes when she lied. Sure on paper a few kisses was nothing, but it was over a week ago and she could still taste him, still feel Sam's body against hers. That wasn't nothing.

Luke stared at her for several silent seconds, his gaze willing her to say something that would make this nothing. "I'm gunna go."

"No, no Luke, please…don't ok? Don't go." She stepped towards him.

"Stop. Please." Luke's jaw was tight and his eyes filled with anger, "One night, I don't know what that means. I don't know what you're saying. But I do know it's not nothing. It's not Andy."

"Luke, really I…"

Without looking back he walked out of her apartment, slamming the door behind him.

Andy stood in the middle of her apartment, unmoving, staring at the empty space until the stove timer went off. _The potatoes_. Running on autopilot she drained the water and added a generous dollop of cream cheese before mashing them, with excessive vigour.

It helped some with the anger. He hadn't even given her a chance to explain. And it was all Luke's fault anyways. If he weren't so wrapped up in his work he would have been there that night and she never would have run to Sam. By the time the potatoes were nearly soup, Andy was breathing normally again. Her ability to think beyond 'he's gone' returned in a jumbled rush.

The anger dissolved into guilt. It wasn't Luke's fault, she'd wanted Sam before she'd even let Luke buy her a drink. Traci was right, she was a slut. And she'd ruined everything.

Relief was in there too. It was over. She'd told Luke, he'd walked out and she hadn't followed him. It probably wouldn't have helped. She should have done it anyway.

Beneath the confusion, anger, guilt, and fear ran a thread of hope. Maybe it wasn't all gone. Sure she'd screwed up, badly, but she and Sam had been something like friends before the blackout, maybe they could be again. Breaking up with Luke wouldn't kill her. Working with a training officer who she'd given every reason to question her judgement and hate her just a little might get them both killed.

She took and deep breath and focused on preparing dinner. She would love to throw the entire thing in the garbage, but she'd spent too much money on it to let it go to waste.

_Girlfriend of the Year_, she sighed. So much for that master plan. She felt a brief pulse of anger at Traci for suggesting it in the first place, but she quelled it quickly. Traci hadn't told her to cheat, or to propose a romantic night away to cover her cheater's guilt. If she were completely honest the Girlfriend of the Year campaign had really begun with the trip to Luke's fishing cabin. The trip to celebrate being reinstated after she'd shot and killed a man.

She'd killed someone.

It always came back to that.

One hot, hellish day. Three bullets. A dozen lies.

One more moth burned by an irresistible flame.

Sam went to the Penny with Jerry after shift, because drinking alone was an easy habit to fall into and a hard one to kick. They talked about nothing, because it had been a hell of a day and they were all too exhausted to do much more than down scotch and toast themselves on a job well done.

They'd found Rebecca. The story had ended happily this time.

Sam should have been elated. Instead, he felt weary. Like he'd been running forever and finally come crashing to a halt.

It was not a pleasant feeling.

He'd spent the entire day strung out on stress. Interviewing the parents, being forced to watch impotently as McNally interviewed the mother and then stuck at the station while everyone else worked to track the couple who had taken Rebecca. Finding the girl unharmed was a miracle. The relief should have been tremendous, but he was too worn out.

The last five months had been the longest of Sam's life. First his cover was blown and eight long months work was a waste. And then, as if the entire universe and all of division fifteen were conspiring against him, he'd been saddled with McNally as his Rookie to train. He hadn't liked her from the very start, but he'd never been indifferent to her. She fucked with his equilibrium and hiding that fact had become nearly impossible since the blackout.

Although after today he wasn't sure if he wanted to kiss her or kill her. He just hoped, as he sipped at his second glass of whiskey, that her next few assignments would pair her with someone else. He needed to get his head on straight.


	4. Better Off

"You leg's good to go, you want to try putting some weight on it?"

"Yeah," Andy used both hands to slide herself forward along the hood of the car.

He held both hands out to steady her. Taking her right in his left for a moment, releasing it the second she was steady.

"I'm really sorry for freaking out on yah."

She looked away for a moment. "Mhmm," when she met his eyes again her gaze was warm, forgiving.

Sam took a deep breath, she and Luke were on the outs, this might be his only shot. "Look, whatever happened between us…"

Her expression became guarded and Sam's heart lurched. He couldn't do this to her, to himself. He examined his fingers, still tinged red from her blood. She had been hurt too many times. They both had. If Callaghan pulled his head out of his ass, the pair of them could be blissfully happy together.

"You know Luke's a good guy. Reliable. Solid."

"He is." Andy nodded.

"Yeah, and a hell of a detective. Doesn't impose, doesn't judge, just looks at the facts."

Andy's eyes narrowed in confusion.

Sam continued. "Which is probably what he's doing right now. Just give him some time?"

She seemed to weigh his words for a moment before nodding, "Yeah."

"Good to go?"

"Yeah," She looked down at her leg, a wry twist to her lips, "As long as you drive."

He offered her is hand for support and helped her into the vehicle. The rest of the drive passed in silence. They were both too tired to keep up meaningless chatter. Sam glanced over at Andy as they entered the city, her eyes were closed and by all appearances she was fast asleep. He shook her shoulder gently. "Andy, wake up."

She opened one eye and then the other and looked around blearily as if she couldn't quite figure out why the world was speeding past.

"We're ten minutes out, then you can get some real sleep."

She blushed. "I'm sorry."

He shrugged off her apology, "Don't worry about it. It's been a hell of a day."

"No thanks to me." She muttered.

Sam flinched. He'd been too hard on her when the prisoner had escaped. But the thought that she could have been killed combined with the panic over losing a prisoner in transport had made it impossible to remain calm. "It wasn't entirely your fault." He said at last, "I shouldn't have left you alone in the car with him."

"And I should know better than to open the door when the prisoner's feet are facing me."

"You're a Rookie, you're supposed to make mistakes."

She snorted. "Right."

"Did I tell you the joke about the roof?"

"What?" Andy looked at him like he was crazy.

"Never mind, it's over your head."

"Crazy." She managed between giggles.

Sam smiled, pleased with himself for lightening the mood as he pulled the cruiser into the barn.

Jerry was waiting for them. In a matter of minutes they'd handed off Ray Donald Swan and he and Andy were alone in the garage. Andy sighed loudly, she looked like she could fall asleep right there. Same smiled, "See you around pal."

"See you around buddy." She replied, before turning and limping towards the women's locker rooms.

Sam headed in the opposite direction; there was just one thing he had to do.

Luke Callaghan was alone in the Detective's office, filling out paperwork, when Sam popped his head through the door. He looked up, annoyance clear on his face. "Have a good trip?"

"You know what? You're an idiot." Sam fought a wave of anger he hadn't expected. Everything he'd said to Andy was true, Luke was a good guy. And Sam had every intention of sticking to his resolve to stay away from Andy, for both of their sake. But Luke's coldness towards Andy made Sam's blood boil.

"Excuse me." Luke glared at him.

Sam checked quickly behind him to make sure no one was around to hear what he was about to say. "Nothing happened with McNally that night. I tried, she shot me down. She's crazy about you, don't screw it up." He didn't wait to hear anything Luke might have said.

If the detective was half as clever as he thought he was, he would forgive Andy and move forward with their relationship with questioning the one night she'd shared with Sam too closely. And Sam would try something new: friendship with a woman. It was going to be interesting.

"_Look, whatever happened between us…You know Luke's a good guy. Reliable. Solid."_

Sam had given her an out, and she was damned if she didn't hold on to it for dear life. Luke was a solid guy. She needed solid. Sam was a good guy too, despite any protestations to the contrary, but he was volatile.

Luke was the right guy. Even if she didn't feel it to the bottoms of her feet when they kissed, he was good, solid and interested. What more could a girl want?

Talking for one thing.

Though he appeared to have forgiven her, they hadn't talked at all. It was weird. They'd never fought, he'd just left and now apparently he was back. She didn't like confrontation, never had, but this utter lack of discussion was unnatural.

These thoughts gave Andy little comfort as she tossed and turned in a vain attempt to find comfort in Luke's bed. She lay on her back and listened to the gentle huff of Luke's breath and tried to think of nothing.


	5. Alone

It was one of those days. One of those days where Sam wished he'd shut off the alarm clock, pulled the covers over his head and simply refused to get up. If he hadn't gotten up Luke wouldn't have sent Andy and Sam to talk to Tommy, they never would have found the empty gun and Sam wouldn't have had to spend half an hour of watching Andy pace the beach, searching for shells that would prove nothing.

Even now with Mrs. Kalisiak's confession shifting the suspicion off Tommy, Andy looked like she was going to be sick. And so here he was, parked in front of a computer fast forwarding through hours of traffic footage and hoping against hope that he could pick Tommy's car out of the late night traffic.

When he found it at 12:17:48 he triple checked the license plate before printing off a still. At 2:34:08 he found the car again, this time heading back into the city. Breathing a sigh of relief he printed off two copies of everything, shoved it in a folder and went in search of Andy.

He found her exactly where he thought she would be, watching with baited breath as Callaghan interrogated Mrs. Kalisiak. He could tell by the tense set of her shoulders and the deep furrow in her forehead that she was still worried about Tommy. His grip on the folder that would clear all suspicion from her father tightened involuntarily.

"A traffic camera on Kingsway recorded your dad's car heading out to the West Beach around midnight," He handed off the folder to her, "then back again two hours later."

"So he wasn't anywhere near the park when Kalisiak was shot."

"No." Sam's heart contracted, "you were right."

Andy closed her eyes and breathed a deep sigh of relief.

"So, you ok to take him home now?"

When she turned to him it looked as though she might cry. She nodded. For a moment their eyes locked and no words were necessary.

"Thank you." Andy said, finding her voice at last.

He nodded and stepped back. He had to back away, before he gave in to the sadness in her eyes and the painful twist in his heart and pulled her against his chest. She wasn't his to hold. She didn't want him.

He left her in the room without another word.

… …

Andy stared around her empty apartment. It was no emptier than she'd left it that morning, and yet the space felt suddenly cavernous. She knew she'd done the right thing, cutting herself off from her father, but knowing that didn't ease the ache. Flawed though he was, he was all she had. And now he was gone.

She was alone.

In many ways she'd been alone since she was eleven years old. Since the morning she woke up and her mother was gone. Since the afternoon she raced home from school expecting to see that her mother had changed her mind and come home and found her father passed out in front of the TV, surrounded by empty cans. Since her twelfth birthday which no one remembered, not even her friends from school.

But somehow, even though she'd been alone for fourteen years, there was an emptiness today that she couldn't name, couldn't fill. It hurt when she breathed.

She tossed her bag onto her bed and headed to the kitchen. She needed a drink. Like father, like daughter. Behind the bottle of vodka and tray of ice cubes was a frozen jar of water she could still read the post in suspended in the ice, _Sam Swarek_. She set the vodka on the counter and pulled out the jar.

The ice hurt her fingers as she held the jar. She'd forgotten it was there.

Things with Sam had been good since the prison transport two weeks earlier. Somehow they'd managed to slide back into the comfortable camaraderie they'd had before she went and screwed it all up. Somehow putting all the complicated, forbidden feelings she'd had for Sam on ice had worked.

She should probably throw it out. She and Luke were good. There was no need for her to keep other men's names in jars. But she couldn't. Not today. Not on the day Sam had risked his badge to protect her.

She placed the jar back in the freezer, tucked behind the ice cubes and a bag of peas. Luke didn't need to see it, not now, probably not ever. She picked up the vodka to pour herself a glass and then changed her mind. Instead of pulling a glass from the cupboard she walked to the sink, twisted off the cap and dumped the liter of vodka down the drain.

How many times had she done this for her father? Dumped out bottles of alcohol in hopes he wouldn't get drunk that night. It had never worked, and yet she still did it. She'd done it today, taken the whiskey off his table and dumped it on the lawn in front of his building. It hadn't helped. Nothing she'd done for him had helped.

Tears of helplessness, loneliness and anger welled up in her eyes but she refused to let them fall.

There was a knock at the door. She left the nearly empty vodka bottle upended in the sink and walked slowly to the door. Taking a deep steadying breath she pulled it open.

"Dad." Her heart twisted painfully. She'd done the right thing, but it still hurt to see him, standing in her half, clutching the lock box she knew still held his gun because Sam hadn't given her back the key. She bit the inside of her lip and ordered herself to be strong.

It was for the best. For both of them.

A/N: Sorry this is both short and late. For anyone who is also reading Table for Four, chapter 2 is about halfway done, hoping to have it up by Monday There will be at least one more chapter to Drowning as a follow up for the Season Finale tonight. Hopefully I can get that up by next Thursday. Huge thank you to everyone who has read and especially those who took the time to leave a review. You guys are awesome!


	6. Where There Is Smoke

"Good job out there today, Peck."

Gail dragged her eyes away from Chris's tall frame long enough to smile at Swarek. "Thank you, sir."

"Can I buy you a drink?" He gestured vaguely towards the bar.

She nodded and follow him as he weaved his way to two empty stools.

"Any preferences?" Gail slid onto the stool.

"No, lady's choice."

She grinned, "Tequila!" The one liquor that always went straight to her head and was pretty much guaranteed to set the room spinning. Exactly what she needed after tonight.

"That's what I'm talking about!" Sam signaled the bartender.

The shots arrived in short order. "To being cut loose, congratulations," Sam raised his glass.

"Being cut loose!" Gail clinked her glass against his.

They each downed the ounce of liquor in a single gulp. The tequila burned clean and hot down to her stomach. She set the shot glass back on the bar top in tandem with Swarek.

She grinned at him, momentarily forgetting that Chris was less than ten meters away and completely ignoring her existence. She had no one to blame for that but herself, but it still hurt. So, tequila it was, at least for tonight.

There was a shout of triumph from the dartboard, Gail turned without thinking just in time to see Chris hit the target in the head, giving Dove another win by the sound of it. Neither of them had managed to beat Nash's score as far as she could tell, but Dove at least appeared to be improving. She tore her eyes away from Chris's tall from and back to Sam. Tonight was a night to celebrate and as distractions went, he was a good one, but when she cast a glance in his direction his attention was across the bar, on Andy and Luke.

There had been a time, months ago, when Gail would have sworn up and down that McNally and Swarek were something more than just partners, the look on his face in that moment told her she hadn't been entirely wrong. It was the same look Gail knew covered her own face when she looked at Chris.

Unrequited love; an extra crinkle around the eyes, a tightness in the lips. Naked symptoms, poorly masked by the smile that never made it to the eyes; or the "I'm fine" that doesn't quite ring true.

"Are you ok?" She asked, knowing it was none of her business but unable to help herself.

"Yep." Sam turned to face her, "great." He scrutinized her face for a split second, "You?"

Gail fought a sudden urge to laugh, or cry, she was so far from ok she didn't even try to lie about it. "Can we get some air?"

There was compassion and unspoken understanding in Sam's eyes when he nodded. "Sure, sure." He stood and pulled out his wallet. "Just leave this.." he tossed a folded twenty on the bar top. His eyes lingered a moment too long on Andy before he turned and ushered Gail out the door.

It was chilly in the parking lot. Gail pulled her coat around her body to block out the night air as she leaned back against the grill of Sam's truck. With one hand she fumbled in her pocket for the package of cigarettes she knew would still be there. Her mother smoked, said it was a good way to pass the time on long, lonely stakeouts; helped her fit in on UC ops, especially those involving convicts; and cut off any talk of a beautiful woman being too dainty for any job. This pack had been shoved in Gail's pocket by the superintendant herself a week earlier after a particularly horrible family dinner.

Gail had smoked only one smoke from the pack, her weekly limit -self set to stave off yellow teeth, smokers cough and addiction. But this was a night of celebration. And bitter regret. So she pulled out the pack and lighter. "You mind?" She asked Sam.

"Nah," he leaned back next to her at the front of his truck.

"You smoke?"

"Sometimes." Sam shrugged, "Took it up on an undercover assignment last year, haven't had one since McNally busted me."

"Want one?" She flipped open the pack and held it out to him.

He considered the pack in her hands for a moment before taking one.

Gail passed him the lighter and pulled out a cigarette for herself as well. For several moments silence reigned in the parking lot as they each took a few drags of acrid smoke. As always, Gail's lungs burned with the first drag, a gentle reminder that her body hated this habit, regardless of what her mother might say.

It was Sam who broke the silence. "So, you and Diaz, eh?"

She shook her head, flicking a chuck of ash onto the pavement, "Not anymore."

"That have anything to do with what happened with Beebe?"

"You know about that?" She sighed, "Of course you do. Is there anyone who doesn't know?"

"Probably not." Sam took a long drag of his cigarette, eyes fixed on some unseen spot on the far side of the lot. "I'm sorry it went down that way."

Gail turned so she could look him straight on. "Whatever. That was the day of the training exercise. You didn't have anything to do with it." She forced a casual tone, but her eyes were glued to his face, there was a layer of guilt there she desperately wanted to understand. Desperately wanting to know anything that would help her understand why Chris and Andy had gone straight to the Staff Sergeant without even giving Steve 24 hours to clear things up quietly.

"McNally tried to come to me for advice but I was..." Sam tossed his half smoked cigarette on the ground and snuffed it out with the toe of his shoe. "I was distracted and I didn't listen."

"Distracted?"

He shifted his weight. "Yeah. Like I said, I'm sorry. Steve's a good guy, didn't deserve to get stuck with an ass like Beebe or to get caught up in all that shit."

"And you could have stopped that from happening?"

It was a rhetorical question, they both had been around Toronto police long enough to know that an accusation like the one levelled against her brother's partner would not be allowed to slip under the table.

Sam answered anyway, "Williams and I could have been the whistle blowers instead of McNally and Diaz... not much but it's something."

"You and McNally, eh?" she couldn't contain a Cheshire grin as she mirrored his question from a few minutes earlier.

Sam shook his head, "Nothing like that."

"Right," Gail replied sceptically. "And how long did you survive undercover?"

* * *

A/N: So sorry I am so late and that this isn't the final chapter... one more to come, i have started it, but only about 100 words in. Hoping to have it up in a week, but I will be pushing to finish Table for four first so it might be a little later than that. Thank you everyone who has stuck with me through this one. It's been fun!


	7. Nightmare

Faster. They should be moving faster.

Andy couldn't breathe. Her chest was painfully tight and her brain was stuck in a short circuit of panic.

All she could think about was the fact that Sam was walking into a death trap and it was all her fault. They could have let the deal go. Walked out with two million of the dealer's money, but she hadn't let that happen. Idiot. She'd been too busy worrying that they would let this case slip through their fingers, ruin the second UC op in six months.

She shouldn't have let him leave with Angel. Somehow she should have maneuvered the situation so she was the one headed into a building filled with felons who would shoot her in a heartbeat if they knew she was a cop.

Williams yelled something into her radio, but Andy couldn't make it out through the ringing in her ears.

A few seconds or an eternity later the SUV slammed to a stop, joining a half dozen or more others before a large dilapidated warehouse. "Dispatch I have one victim, dead on scene, shot in the chest, have responding units seal the building"

Bile rose in Andy's throat. Sam. Please God don't let it be Sam. She climbed out of the SUV on shaking legs. She scanned the area until her eye caught the sheet covered body. She felt dizzy as Boyd pulled it back.

It wasn't Sam.

"McNally!"

She whirled around at the familiar voice.

Sam leaned against a car, smile on his face. "You're ok," She came to a stop a couple feet away, her heart still pounding in her chest.

"Yeah, thanks to you. You were great in there."

"Thanks."

"See? You don't have to fake it anymore."

She returned his smile. Their eyes locked. His eyes were warm and she shifted her weight uncomfortably from one foot to the other. She wanted to touch him, assure herself he was really there. But she wasn't his girlfriend and non-girlfriends didn't throw themselves at their male friends. So she shifted her weight and forced her eyes away.

"Well," Sam broke the silence, "I should uh... get in there and give a statement."

Andy nodded, "Alright." She wanted to say something more. _I'm glad you didn't die_. _I could kill you for scaring me like that_. _Are you sure you're ok?_ But the words wouldn't come.

"See you tomorrow, Copper?"

"See you tomorrow."

* * *

Andy fell into bed a little before dawn. She'd spent hours at the scene and then back at the station, giving a statement and then filling out paperwork. She hadn't seen Luke or Sam since leaving the scene, she assumed they would both stay to work until Staff Sergeant Best forced them out.

Luke had a key, but she didn't expect to see him until the next day. They would be living together soon enough. _Fake it till you make it_. It's what she'd told Traci all those weeks ago, what she'd been doing since she left the academy, and it had maybe saved Sam's life tonight so there was no point in abandoning it now. Luke was a great guy. Kind, handsome, and supportive. He'd had her back tonight.

Of course, Sam had her back too. But she told herself it was different. Sam was her partner. It was his job to keep her safe. Luke had volunteered for lookout duty in order to keep her safe. _Because Luke didn't think you could do it_ a traitorous voice whispered in her head. Too exhausted to hash it out in her head, Andy pulled a pillow over her face to block out the early morning light and fell into a fitful sleep.

_Faster. She needed to move faster, but no matter how fast she ran the SUV didn't seem to get any closer. She tried to scream, tried to yell out that they needed to move, get in the SUV, get to the warehouse, get to Sam. _

_Suddenly she was in the SUV and they were pulling up to the warehouse along with a half dozen others. The radio crackled. "Dispatch I have one victim, dead on scene, shot in the chest, have responding units seal the building" _

_Andy couldn't breathe. Her chest was painfully tight. She climbed out of the SUV and scanned the parking lot frantically. He wasn't there. _

_Her eyes landed on the body, covered by a yellow plastic sheet. Her heart thudded painfully in her chest as she walked slowly towards it. With a trembling hand she pulled the plastic back exposing a familiar face frozen in death. _

_"Sam!" the name tore itself from her throat, one part scream one part sob. _

Andy woke alone in her apartment, sweating, her throat raw from screaming. It took several minutes before reality overrode the terror of her dream. She was home and safe, Sam was safe. Her heart rate slowed to normal and she reached for her cel phone.

The clock on the display said eight-fifteen. She'd been asleep less than three hours, but she knew she wouldn't be able to go back to sleep. Not with the amount of adrenalin pumping through her veins. She flipped open the phone and dialed Luke's cel.

It rang five times before clicking over to voicemail. Andy closed the phone without leaving a message. She knew Luke well enough to know he would find her when he finally surfaced. Until then it was pointless to try and get him to talk about anything but the case he was consumed with. In a way his single minded focus was what had attracted her in the first place, but on a morning like today, when she was jittery with left over adrenalin, she wished he wouldn't disappear so completely into his work.

She threw aside the blankets and climbed out of bed. She started a pot of coffee brewing before climbing in the shower. The rhythmic pounding of hot water against her bare skin helped to ease the tension in her muscles and by the time she was dressed in jeans and a long sleeved t-shirt she felt like herself again.

She poured coffee and a generous amount of milk into a travel mug and grabbed her jacket. If she wasn't going to get sleep she might as well be at the precinct.

* * *

A/N: I know it's been forever, thanks everyone for your patience :) Season premiere is coming up in a few short weeks, (cannot wait!) I am intending to carry on this series through Season 2 so expect more regular updates soon.

Please review!


	8. You

"Jo and I, we were partners for three years." Luke didn't elaborate, but his direct gaze invited her to ask anything she wanted.

She narrowed her eyes. "How long 'd you live together?"

"Two and a half."

Andy felt like she'd been sucker punched. He hadn't hidden it from her, not really. They'd never had the ex-talk and today hadn't exactly given them much time to talk, and yet she couldn't shake the feelings of jealousy and betrayal. How had he not told her that he'd lived with someone else, someone he'd only known for six months at the time. The same amount of time he'd known her when he'd asked her to move in with him. She wondered if Jo had been a rookie when they'd partnered or if the identical timing was just an unfortunately coincidence.

"Any regrets?"

"Not one." He held her gaze, patiently waiting for her to absorb the information.

She searched his gaze for a moment. Finding no secrets she shut down the jealous voices in her head and made her decision. Luke was a good guy. He would never hurt her like that. She had questions, but tonight was not the night to get into it. "Good," she said at last, pulling him into a kiss.

It wasn't a great kiss. It didn't have to be. It was a reminder, to him and to herself, that they were the couple. Solid, and happy and in it for the long haul. No gorgeous ex-partner was going to come between them.

Judging by the smile he gave her when they broke apart, he got the message.

She entered the Penny ahead of him and headed straight for her fellow rookies. Luke stayed with her, an arm wrapped around her waist, but when she lifted her shirt up to show off the still throbbing bruise on her abdomen, he seemed to take the hint and headed off to the bar.

"Anything broken?" Chris asked, his dark eyes worried.

She shook her head. "It looks worse than it is." It was a half truth, but from the way everyone at the table seemed to sag a little with relief, she knew it was the right thing to say. the truth was she would dearly love to be lying down in her old apartment, alone, with an ice pack on her abdomen and a fistful of painkillers doing their thing in her bloodstream.

The pain had grown steadily worse all day. For a while, when she thought Miranda was in trouble and when she'd been chasing Kate's killer, adrenaline had taken over and her body had been too busy to hurt. But once the case was solved and there was nothing left for her to do, it had returned with vengeance. She'd almost let Luke take her to the hospital after shift, but she was afraid that once she admitted she felt pain, he would talk to Staff Sergeant Best and she would spend the next three weeks stuck behind a desk.

"You had us worried there, McNally." Dov said, pushing out a chair for her to sit in.

She grinned, "You're not getting rid of me that easily."

o o o

Sam took a long sip of whiskey, letting the warm burn of the alcohol wash some of the tension from his body. He could hear Andy behind him, showing off her war wound, talking tough though he was sure she was in agony. Gun shots, even to the vest, were not something you just shook off.

Unless of course you were as stubborn as Andy McNally, who seemed so determined not to take any special treatment, even though she had to be feeling that bruise with every breath she took.

He supposed they should be grateful today for her complete bull-headed refusal to go to the hospital or at least home to ice the bruise. They would have solved it one way or another, eventually, but she'd probably saved two lives. Not that she would focus on that. If he knew McNally half as well as he thought he did, she would obsess about the death that she could never have prevented, and never even think about the two lives she'd personally saved that day.

Detective Jo Rosati pulled out the stool next to him. Sam held out a hand, "Pleasure working with you Detective." He meant it. The detective was sharp and direct, qualities Sam appreciated in a homicide detective.

She smiled, "Oh, thanks. You too." She signalled the bar tender, "Looks like we might get a chance to do it again."

"Oh yeah?"

"Always tricky switching teams mid season, but, ah, duty calls."

"You're gonna stay at fifteen, huh?"

"Well, you guys had an opening, I applied for the transfer" She stammered slightly over the sentence and Sam wondered what was really bringing her to fifteen.

"Oh."

"What about you? I heard you were headed over the guns and gangs."

"Ah, yeah." Sam shifted in his seat uncomfortably. "Haven't decided yet."

Guns and gangs. That had been the goal driving Sam's career for nearly a decade. Then today, when Boyd practically begged him to take it, he had hesitated. Because of her. He couldn't resist turning to look at her.

Andy McNally. The woman he could not get out of his head, no matter how many times she turned him down or how much whiskey he drank. He didn't know if he had the strength to walk away. Accepting the offer would mean saying goodbye to Andy, probably for good. Guns and Gangs meant undercover, maybe for months at a time. How could say yes and just walk away?

Today hadn't helped. How could he walk away from her after today?

Then again, maybe he should take today as a sign telling him he had to walk away. He couldn't believe how close he'd come to kissing her. Right there in the middle of a crime scene. All he'd been able to think about was how many ways he could have lost her. Never once did he remember she wasn't his in the first place.

_"What's holding you back?"_

_"You."_

He still couldn't believe he'd said it out loud. At least McNally had shrugged it off as Sam being Sam with her cheap crack about his hair gel. Though part of him wished she hadn't been so eager to ignore it.

He turned back to Roseti, "Cheers."

They clinked glasses and lapsed into silence. Sam could feel her eyes on his profile, but when he snuck a glance at her, she was staring past him, at something or someone else further down the bar with a look he knew all too well. He shook his head and took another gulp of whiskey.

o o o

"I'm gonna grab another drink," Andy said.

"I'll get it," Chris offered, but she waved him off.

She spotted Sam's familiar dark head at the bar and stood next to him, signalling to the bartender that she wanted one more.

"You did good today." Sam said, not bothering with hello.

"Really?"

He nodded, "You followed the case all the way through. Probably saved that girl's life."

"Kate-"

"Not Kate," he interrupted. "The roommate... uh, Miranda."

She tilted her head to one side. Somehow in all of this she'd never even thought of Miranda.

"How're the ribs?"

"Fine." She said, "Barely feel it."

"Right," Sam's voice was heavy with doubt. "Two Advil and an ice pack. Gets the swelling down pretty well."

"Thanks, but I'm fine. Really."

"I know," he said, raising his hands in surrender, "you're superwoman, McNally. But humour me, will you?"

The protest that had been building in Andy's throat fizzled. She laughed, for about three seconds. A knife of pain show through her abdomen and she sucked in a sharp breath through her teeth.

Sam reached for her out of instinct, his hand resting on her arm. "Andy?"

She forced a smile. "Laughing hurts."

He smiled back, "I told you, a couple Advil and a few hours with an ice pack. You'll be back to normal in no time." He paused, dark eyes scanning her face, "No one will think less of you if you take a day off, you know."

She shook her head. "I'm fine."

"Yeah." He drained his whiskey glass in one swallow. "You will be."

"That's exactly what Oliver said."

"He's a smart man."

She nodded. The bartender brought Andy her drink and she turned to return to her table, but paused for a moment. "You really going to go to Guns and Gangs?"

"Uh," that was one question Sam hadn't been expecting. "I haven't decided yet."

"It's what you wanted, isn't it?"

Sam searched her face for a hidden meaning, but came up empty. It was an innocent question and eight months ago he would have answered with a definite yes. But things had changed. He didn't know what he wanted anymore. "Yeah," he answered, "it used to be."

She studied him for a second, brow furrowed. The same look she'd given him earlier today, outside Supernova when he'd told her she was the reason he was hesitating. This time he let the silence hang between them.

"Andy!" Traci called from the table behind them, breaking the moment.

"See you tomorrow?" Andy phrased it as a question.

He nodded. "See you tomorrow."

* * *

**A/N: Season 2! **

**Huge thank you to everyone who read and reviewed this fic through season one. I hope you'll stick with me through season two. It looks like it's going to be a fantastic season. **

**Please review!**


	9. Betrayal

Oliver looked across the table at his friend, his former partner, and for the first time saw the stranger he'd become. "Brother, you've got an enviable life."

Murphy scoffed and dropped his gaze to the table.

"But I wouldn't want to be you. Not when Mackie's crew finds out what you did."

Murphy raised his eyes back to Oliver's face, managing to look hurt and defensive at the same time.

"Even if they don't." Oliver pushed back his chair and stood.

"Ollie!" The familiar nickname was like a knife in Oliver's gut, "Ollie!"

"Don't. Not here." Oliver said, walking out without a backwards glance.

Outside the interrogation room he leaned against the wall. It took several deep breathes before he was able to straighten up and walk the rest of the way to the locker room. Anger, betrayal, hurt and confusion warred for dominance. His friend, his _partner_, the man who had saved his life fifteen years ago, who he'd admired... That man was gone. And in his place was a drug dealer who had used Oliver and all of fifteen division to peddle drugs to a bunch of kids. He thought he might be sick.

He felt disconnected, as if he were moving underwater and everyone else was above the surface, just out of reach. He knew he couldn't go home, not yet. Cheryl would be sympathetic, but she couldn't understand the depth of this betrayal. Besides, she had always liked Patrick Murphy, and Oliver wasn't ready to tell her what their friend had become.

"Coming for a drink?" Oliver hadn't even noticed Sam Swarek was in the locker room until he spoke and it took a moment for the question to sink in.

"Yeah." He said at last, "A drink would be good."

Sam slapped him on the shoulder. "Come on, I'll drive."

They didn't talk. Sam seemed lost in thought and Oliver didn't have anything to say. The Penny was quieter than usual, a fact Oliver was extremely grateful for. He wasn't sure how many sympathetic or accusatory looks he could stomach tonight. He was doing a good enough job beating himself up for not realizing Murphy was up to no good long before now, he didn't need to know everyone else was wondering the same thing. _How didn't I know?_

Sam bought the first pitcher of beer and set it on a table in the back corner, furthest from the door and most of the bar's occupants. He poured them each a glass, pushing one across the table to Oliver's waiting hands.

"Thanks." Oliver wasn't usually much of a drinker. With the exception of poker nights, he usually tried to be sober when he went home. But tonight he was planning to drink the voices in his head into silence. He drained the glass in a few swallows and poured another.

"You want to talk about it?"

Oliver sighed. He'd known Sam a long time. Not as long as he'd known Patrick, but long enough to know Sam wasn't the type to sit around talking about his feelings. "I can't believe it." He said, taking another swig of beer.

Sam didn't say anything. He just watched Oliver with steady dark eyes.

Oliver asked the question that had been plaguing him for hours ,"How could I not know?"

"He was your partner." Sam said, as if this explained everything.

"Ten years ago." Oliver had finished off his second glass of beer. He poured a third, emptying the pitcher. "People change."

"Sometimes," Sam agreed.

"They're not going to find anything." In a way he was glad. Patrick was his friend and he didn't want to see the man in jail. At the same time, he hated knowing they'd found their man but wouldn't be able to make charges stick for it. They would get him for murder, but it would go in front of a jury and Oliver had been around long enough to know that an ex-cop killing a known drug dealer who was about to kill an undercover cop would not be prosecuted very harshly at all. In all likelihood Patrick Murphy would receive the lightest sentence the law allowed, and then in a year, or ten, he would be out and free to continue running cocaine under the nose of law enforcement, knowing he would never be caught.

"He probably saved McNally's life." Sam's voice was uncharacteristically gentle. "That gun was loaded and Mackie's got a reputation for losing his temper."

Oliver knew Sam was right. If it weren't for Murphy, Andy would probably be in the hospital right now, or the morgue. Still it was hard to feel grateful to the friend and fellow officer who had so badly betrayed his trust. He studied Sam's face, "Are you alright?"

Sam stood, picking up the empty pitcher. "Yeah. I'm good."

Oliver nursed his third glass of beer while Sam went to get the pitcher refilled. The mention of McNally hadn't helped ease his pain, but it had reminded him he wasn't the only one hurting. This was the second time in as many weeks McNally had been involved in a shooting. She'd gotten lucky, but it couldn't be easy to see the woman you loved in danger. Not that Sam would admit to being in love with her. But anyone who'd known Sam as long as Oliver had could see the signs.

o o o

Andy couldn't sleep.

They'd solved the case. She'd done her job today and done it well. Yet there was a sense of unease. A feeling that something was off. And no matter how hard she tried she could not shut her brain off.

She was pretty sure she knew what was wrong, she could sum it up in a single word. _Jo_.

Ever since the female detective had appeared on the scene with her kind eyes and easy smile, Andy hadn't been able to shake the feeling that her perfect life was teetering at the edge of a cliff, only seconds from being shattered to a million pieces.

There wasn't really any reason for her to worry. Luke loved her. She was certain of that. And she loved him too. They were building a life together here, and it was a good life. He and Jo had a history, there was no denying that, but Luke had answered every question she'd asked. So what if he'd forgotten how she took her coffee, there were more important things in life than coffee. Being able to say how you felt being one of them.

Luke had no problem telling her he loved her. He told her every day. And most of the time it made her happy. She needed that, a man who could say what he was feelings.

Even if it wasn't very exciting.

She tried to stifle the traitorous thought, but she couldn't. She'd meant what she said earlier that night. Being involved with a man who might love you but would probably never say it was exciting. The mystery of it all somehow made the little things, like a perfectly prepared cup of coffee or a warm glance, seem rife with meaning. But, she told herself firmly, there was no future in that.

Happiness and excitement rarely went hand in hand for long.

* * *

_A/N: I adore Oliver and he broke my heart last episode, so this chapter was really for him. Happy 4th of July to all the Americans out there. Have a hotdog for me :) _

_Please review!_


	10. Helpless

"I'm his fiancé. I am his family."

The nurse nodded, "Alright, come on," and Andy followed her through the double doors into the ICU.

Luke's room was the first they came to and Andy hovered in the door for a moment before she could bring herself to enter. He was pale and there were leads hooking him up to monitors along one wall, but he was breathing on his own. She didn't know much, but she was taking this as a good sign.

He was her family. She'd meant that. It felt surreal, but it was true. They'd been engaged less than twenty-four hours, and if she was really honest with herself she hadn't been quite sure when she said yes that this was really what she wanted.

But she wanted it now, maybe more than she'd ever wanted anything A family. A _real _family. Not the pathetic excuse for one she and Tommy had been faking for 14 years. With his drinking the image of her mother away and her pretending the pain didn't still catch her off guard some days. They were definitely not one of those picture perfect, white fence, cheesy Christmas card type of families. She loved her dad. She would always love him, no matter how many times he screwed up. But he was hardly the picture perfect father, no matter how well h was doing in his AA meetings, he was sill the kind of father you didn't brag about to your friends.

Luke on the other hand, was as near to perfect as she could imagine. And he loved her. She didn't know why, but she knew he did. He wanted to take care of her. It was an outdated, chauvinistic idea, but Andy had never been cared for. She'd been taking care of herself for as long as she could remember, the idea of a man wanting to take care of her was foreign, but not unwelcome. If they had kids she knew they would admire Luke, probably drag him to school for show and tell, asking him on all their field trips, because having a detective as a father was cool – she knew that from experience. But unlike her father, Luke was rock solid.

She looked at his pale face and squeezed his limp cold hand. Solid and strong. And he loved her. He told her every day. She looked down at the diamond sparkling on her finger. IT wasn't exactly her style, but it was gorgeous and he'd clearly spent a lot of money on it. He'd planned a proposal, a beautiful romantic proposal at the lake, and she'd ruined it, yet he'd smiled and given her an out without making her feel like he wanted her to take it. He knew her. Yet he loved her anyway.

And now he was lying in the hospital and might never wake up and it was all her fault.

o o o

Sam sank into the hospital chair Andy had vacated seconds earlier and let his head fall back against the wall.

Andy was in with Luke. He didn't know how long the hospital would let her stay, but he planned to wait her out. There was no way he was letting her take a cab home alone after tonight. He wasn't even sure she should go to the house she shared with Luke, not tonight. There would still be blood on the floor, and even if there wasn't, how was she supposed to sleep in the apartment where her fiancé, Sam grimaced at the word, had been shot? No, he would take her to Tommy's or Nash's. She was not going to be alone tonight.

She loved him, Callaghan. Really and truly. Sam realized he hadn't really believed that before. Somehow he'd convinced himself that Andy was doing what Andy always did - trying to fix things by being perfect. Trying to make up for almost leaving Luke by moving in, trying to make up for having a alcoholic father and absentee mother by making a commitment to spend her life with that person who is right on paper but not quite right in reality. But now he knew he'd been fooling himself.

Andy trusted Sam. Liked him even. But she loved Luke. Loved Luke like Sam loved her.

Detective Jo Rosati took the seat next to him. She looked as drained as Sam felt. As if she'd been running all day and crash landed here without really knowing where here was or why they was there at all. Sam knew she and Luke had been partners for three years, but he suspected there was something more than just a partnership.

Why did life have to be so complicated?

"Coffee?" He asked, standing up.

Jo jumped, as if she hadn't even realized there was someone else in the room. "Sure." She tried to force a smile, but her lips trembled and her eyes were red-rimmed and damp, "Black."

He found a coffee cart on the first floor and ordered two regular medium-roast. He added two packs of sugar to his, slapped lids on the cups and headed back to the second floor hallway outside the ICU.

There were cops milling about in the hallway, everyone waiting for news about Callaghan. Sam paid no attention to them. They were here for Callaghan. He was here for Andy.

They sat in silence for a long time. Sam finished his coffee and set the empty cup on the floor. Staff Sergeant Best and most of the other officers headed back to the division. By midnight only Jo and Sam remained.

"So you and McNally, huh?" Jo turned to look at him.

Sam didn't have the energy to lie, but there really wasn't anything to say. He was in love with Andy McNally, he was past the point where he could deny that, but she did not love him back. "We're partners."

"Right," there was doubt in her voice. "You're sitting in the world's most famously uncomfortable chairs all night, letting someone else get credit for your collar, because your partner's boyfriend got shot?"

"Fiancé," He corrected her. The word felt wrong in his mouth and he wondered how many times he would have to say it before it stopped feeling like a cosmic joke. "They're engaged."

Jo glared at him. "I know." She rose and he wondered if she was going to leave. But she threw her empty coffee cut in the trash and turned back. She settled next to him again with a heavy sigh. "Believe me, I know McNally and Callaghan are engaged."

Something in her tone made Sam look at her. Obviously she had feelings for Callaghan, but this was something else. "So you and Callaghan, huh?" He echoed her earlier question.

She shrugged. "It was a long time ago."

Sam remained silent. It didn't really matter. Even if Jo and Callaghan had been engaged years ago when they'd been together, the reality was that today Callaghan was engaged to Andy McNally and there wasn't a damn thing either of them could do about it.

o o o


	11. Right

Anger carried Andy as far as the parking lot. Wordless fury that clouded her vision and set the blood roaring in her ears. Ander at Jo for daring to challenge Andy's love for Luke, for being at the hospital, for making Luke laugh. Anger at Luke for sulking, for shutting her out, for being happy tonight with someone else. But most of all, Anger at herself for being less than Luke needed, for resenting his happiness, for wishing she'd let Sam take her home.

Anger was followed by guilt. Guilt that weighed so heavily she nearly turned around and walked right back in to apologize to Luke and Jo then and there. He was in the hospital, recovering from two gunshots that could have killed him. Gunshots meant for her, though no one else had said it, she was certain he had been looking for her. And yet here she was, resenting him and wishing she'd gone home with someone else. She was the worst fiancé in the world.

Today had been terrifying. Trapped in a smoky office with a dead body and a grief stricken widow, worrying that any movement would bring the rest of the roof crashing in on their heads. She'd known she had to stay calm, both her life and Lydia Hannah's depended on it, but knowing how important calm was hadn't helped her achieve it. Her pulse had raced, and her bran had spun in endless panicked circles.

She hadn't thought about Luke once. Not when she was speaking with Jo, trying to tell if Ron Hannah had died in the fire or before it began. Not when she'd tried to distract Lydia by getting her talking about her husband and how she'd loved him. Not even when the fireman began sawing through the wall and for a split second she thought they were both going to die.

She hadn't thought about Luke, but she'd thought about Sam.

Sam. No matter what happened between her and Luke, somehow it always came back to Sam. Luke was the safe choice, the 'right' guy, she still believed that, but when it came down to it, Sam was always the one she reached for when something went wrong. A fact that was getting harder and harder to deny. He was always there. Never too close, but always just within reach. With every crisis, and she had to admit she'd had more than her fair share lately, no matter if it was her father's drinking, or her fiancé in the hospital, or even a burned out building threatening to come down around their ears. Sam was the first one she reached for, and she'd never come up empty.

His voice, steady and familiar over her phone, had been the only thing that had managed to cut through her panic today. Even when she'd slipped it into her pocket so she could focus on keeping Mrs. Hannah calm and she couldn't hear him anymore, knowing he was on the other end of the line and all she had to do was pick it up and say his name and he would be right there had been the lifeline she'd clung to.

She hadn't even been surprised to see him standing there, inside the burned out laundry mat where no one but fire fighters should have been allowed. She'd expected him to be there, his familiar face, attempting a smile that couldn't erase the concern in his eyes; and his strong hand reaching out to help her through the hole they'd cut in the wall. She would have been surprised if he wasn't.

Andy leaned wearily against Luke's car. When had her life gotten so complicated?

_Me, I like to keep the ones I love close. Hold them in a death grip. Never let them go_.

Was that what she was doing to Luke? To Sam?

She didn't know anymore. What she wanted. What she needed. Who was the 'right guy'. Did it even matter?

She was engaged to Luke. They would get married. It was what was supposed to happen. She would have a family and no one would take that away from her. Sam was her partner. Her friend. He would always have her back, but there was nothing more than that between them. He'd made that abundantly clear more than once. Every time she came to him with troubles in her relationship with Luke, Sam gently pushed her back into the other man's arms.

And yet when he'd found out she was engaged...

She shook her head. There was no point in thinking about it. Sam was her partner. Anything else she was reading into it was just in her head.

**A/N: Sorry this is so late and so short. 204 may have been the best episode yet. There wasn't a single thing about it I wanted to change, which made this incredibly hard to write. I hope you enjoyed this meagre offering. Please review :) **


	12. Stuck

"You broke my heart."

The world stopped for a heartbeat. Jo stared at him, her pulse pounded in her ears, so loudly she was certain he could hear it. "I wanted to come back," she said, taking a step towards him. "Every day."

"Why didn't you?" The raw pain in his familiar blue eyes was like a kick to her stomach.

"You were so angry," she dropped her gaze, unable to bear looking into his for another second, "I told myself you didn't want me."

Luke closed the distance between them in two long strides. "I never stopped wanting you."

She met his gaze, the tiny flutter of hope that had started when he told her he hadn't meant to propose to McNally stretched its wings and beat a little more boldly. And then his lips were on hers and she thought it might burst free of her chest and fly about the room.

His lips on hers, so familiar, so right. She slid her fingers through his short blond hair, holding him close, deepening the kiss.

o o o

"I am running off of four hours sleep, nine coffees and I just really wanna go say hi to Luke and sleep 'til Wednesday."

"Okay then, have a good night."

"Yeah, you too."

He watched her walk away, wishing, not for the first time, that he had the right to ask her what was keeping her up at night. She looked exhausted and today lack of attention had nearly cost them the sting.

He wondered if it had anything to do with Callaghan and the wedding. Just the thought of the wedding made his stomach churn unpleasantly. At least they hadn't set a date. It was stupid, he knew, but the longer they went without announcing a date and mailing out invitations, the easier it was to pretend she wasn't engaged. Pretend that he might be the kind of man who would be able to win her affections.

It was a lie, but it was one he was happy to believe as long as he could. The truth was a bitter pill to swallow. No need to face it until he absolutely had to.

o o o

"Luke?" Andy shut the door behind her and flipped the dead bolt. The house was eerily quiet

She hung her coat beside the door and made her way into the bedroom. "Luke?"

When he still didn't answer she swallowed a wave of panic. She could still see Luke lying on the floor, blood everywhere. She didn't think the image would ever leave. A rapid search of the bedroom, bathroom and kitchen came up empty. "Where the hell are you?" She muttered reaching for her cell phone.

Luke's number went straight to voicemail. "Hey Luke, It's me. I'm home, just wondering where you are. See you soon."

She tossed her phone on the kitchen counter and curled up on the couch. Exhaustion made her eyelids heavy, but she forced them open. She needed sleep, but first she needed to know Luke was alright. He hadn't been cleared for duty yet, so she knew he wasn't at work. Where he was, though was a complete mystery.

She flipped the TV on, hoping the noise and lights would keep her up. The local news was broadcasting the successful bust of a meth operation by the Toronto Police Service. She left the TV there.

What a day. First she and Traci had nearly blown the sting by letting their mark walk out the door. Then Dov standing on an IED and throwing them all into a panic. She was glad he was okay, but she could kill him for scaring them like that. And now Luke was AWOL.

The only bright spot in the day had been Lee. Such a sweet woman, stuck in her circumstances and too afraid or proud to ask for help. Andy could relate - maybe a little too strongly. But seeing Lee reach out to her daughter, and knowing Lee's daughter was coming to rescue her mom gave Andy hope.

She's meant what she said to Traci. Her mother was nothing like Lee. Her mother had walked out, started and new life, and never once looked back. Andy felt like she'd been trying to do the same for nearly a decade, but it was like running on a treadmill, no matter how hard or how fast she tried to go, she ended up exactly where she started. But maybe, just Maybe, Andy was like Lee. Maybe if she reached out her mother would come running, needing only the invitation. And maybe then she wouldn't feel so stuck.

The news broadcast ended and the channel flipped over to reruns of CSI, but Andy didn't notice. She was fast asleep.

_It was the same as it always was. She stood at the front of a church, air cut short by a too tightly cinched corset, vision obscured by a white lace veil. She turned to look at Luke, handsome in a classic black tuxedo. She smiled at him, and reached for his hand. And then everything began to shift. The colours brightened into unreal clarity. Luke's blue eyes were piercing cerulean, the purple flowers seemed to glow, so brightly she had to look away, and then Luke was gone. In his place stood her mother, dressed in black from head to toe. The flecks of gold in her dark eyes shone like fire. She opened her mouth as if to speak and then, with a look of horror on her face, backed away. "I can't - I'm sorry-" _

_"Mom!" The word ripped itself free from Andy's throat. _

_But her mother had turned and was sprinting down the aisle. _

_Andy tried to follow. She was younger and taller, she should have had no trouble, but her feet wouldn't move. Her shoes were too tall and the aisle was endless. Before she was halfway up it, her mother was gone. _

_She reached the door at last, but there was no handle. She ran her hands over the smooth wooden surface, knowing with each seconds delay she was falling further and further behind her mother. Finally, the door gave way beneath her hands. She staggered forward, the floor gave in under her feet and there was an ominous click. _

_She looked down. Suddenly she wasn't in a wedding dress any longer. She was in uniform, and her black boots were standing on a pressure plate. _

_She screamed._

Andy jerked awake, heart pounding in her chest, breathing fast and heavy. It was dark outside and the only light in the apartment came from the flickering screen of the TV. There was a noise at the door and it took several seconds for her to identify it as a key in the lock. Luke was home.

o o o


	13. Lies

How could she be so blind? So incredibly stupid? She felt like an idiot. She'd been so certain that this time she had it right, that this time she had picked the best man for the job and that she would soon have it all. The ring, the white picket fence... all the makings of a happily ever after. Instead she had this. An ache in her heart, and an empty apartment.

Here she was, rifling through the closet looking for an overnight bag, praying that Luke would work late so she could be packed and out the door before he came home. She didn't know if she could do this if he were there, watching with guilty, sad eyes.

She'd loved him. She was sure of that. She even believed he had loved her. But clearly love wasn't enough. He hadn't just cheated on her. She might have been able to forgive him if that had been all. If anyone understood a stupid sexual decision, it was Andy. But worse than the sex he'd had with Jo in a hotel were the lies he'd piled on top of that original sin. From the day Jo had arrived at fifteen, Andy felt like every word out of Luke's mouth was a lie.

She found a duffel bag at the bottom of the closet behind a pile of shoes. She reached for it, her engagement ring catching on a shoe lace, temporarily tangling her hand. "Fuck!" Andy wrenched her hand back , throwing the shoe against the wall with a satisfying bang. She glowered at the sparkling diamond on her finger. Another lie.

It slid off her finger easily. She clenched it tightly into her hand, the sharp pain of the raised stone digging into her palm was oddly comforting as she reached for the lock box where she'd _found_ it. Suddenly the fact that she had found the ring on her own and the proposal had followed seemed incredibly important. Had he even meant to propose? She fought off a wave of self loathing.

Was she that desperate for a normal life? So desperate to have a real family that she'd read romance into panic. Had he even bought the ring for her?

Andy slammed the lock box shut and returned to the closet, yanking the bag out and tossing it on the bed. She couldn't take everything, not tonight, there wasn't time. But she quickly threw together a few changes of clothes and her toiletries. It would be enough to get her through the week. she would return for the rest of her things later.

She zipped up the bag and took a look around the room. Her heart wrenched painfully in her chest. Less than a month, that's how long the fantasy had lasted. Once again she was on her own. Was it always going to be this way?

The bag felt unnaturally heavy in her hand, as if her entire world was in it, rather than a couple shirts and a pair of jeans. She took a deep breath and walked out of the room without looking back.

"Andy?" Luke's voice came from downstairs, so familiar it was like a knife in her gut.

She didn't answer as she descended the stairs, she wasn't sure she could speak past the tightness in her throat. At the bottom of the stairs she came to a halt.

Luke was just standing there, his shoulders slumped. He turned to look at her, guilt all over his face. "Please don't do this."

She clenched the hand holding the duffle bag more tightly, the strap cut into her skin, the biting pain helping her stay focused. She stared at him for what felt like an eternity. She had nothing left to say.

"Andy," He closed his eyes, his entire body tensing as if he could infuse enough sincerity into his speech to erase what he'd done. "I screwed up. I made a huge mistake and I'm so sorry."

It was too much. She couldn't take his apologies. he'd been trying to make up for his betrayal for days. Flowers, spa days.. elopements. She dropped her eyes, focusing on the front of his shirt, she couldn't bear the guilt in his eyes. "I know." Tears gathered behind her eyes and she blinked several times trying to force them back, "Because I got all your flowers and you dinners, and your spa packages..."

She swallowed. _You will not cry_. She ordered her traitorous body. "I can only imagine what else I was about to get," She returned her eyes to his face, righteous anger taking over for sadness. She shook her head. It took her several tries but her mouth eventually formed itself in to the real question. The one that had been searing her brain all day. "Why did you still want to get married?"

He couldn't meet her eyes. Even as he said I love you, his gaze barely flickered across hers.

'I love you,' she wondered if those words would ever hold the same meaning for her again. She shook her head, as if denying their power could protect her heart from the sharp pain they caused. "Oh," she said at last, her voice barely a whisper.

The tears she'd successfully blinked away were back, crowding against her lashes, threatening to spill down her cheeks at any moment. She stared at him, silently begging him to say _something_ that would make it all okay. Even though she knew they were long past that now.

Luke was silent.

"The ring is in the lock box," She said at last. Her farewell. "Where I _found_ it." She turned and walked out of the apartment.

He did not come after her.

* * *

**Please review! **


	14. Easy

It would be so easy. All she had to do was focus on today. The sheer exhilaration of relief tied inextricably to his presence. If she focused on today, maybe she could forget last Friday. If she focused on today, maybe she could go back in time. Back to when life was simpler.

Then again... She turned onto her other side. Her body sunk into the foam mattress of the hide-a-bed, but no matter how easily the bed moulded to her form, she could not get comfortable. Confusion, hurt, anger, relief, guilt and fear each took their turn attacking her mind, stealing any semblance of peace.

Yes, Luke had saved her life. But he had also betrayed her. Worse than that, he'd made her look like a fool. No, she might be able to forgive one day, but she would never forget. Things were never going to be the same.

A flush of embarrassment washed over her, she pulled the covers over her head as if the bed could swallow her whole. Sam knew, Traci knew, she was pretty sure Gail knew... probably everyone at fifteen with the possible exception of Chris, who was too good hearted to even think about it, knew. They knew. And she'd spent the day lying to all of them. It was exhausting. And now she knew it was all for nothing.

She threw back the covers and sat up. There would be no sleep tonight. No matter how tired her body was, how heavy her eyelids, she couldn't seem to shut her eyes for more than a second.

If she were perfectly honest, Luke and Jo were not to blame for tonight's sleeplessness. She was exhausted enough her thoughts were barely even making sense at this point. the real problem was what might happen if she closed her eyes. If she let the darkness overtake her.

If she woke up and realized that it wasn't a nightmare. That the rescue and the aftermath were the dream. That reality had her duct taped to a pole in a storage locker with no cell phone reception and no one coming to her rescue. That her reckless pursuit of Luke's hunch, her desperate need to prove she could rise above whatever drama she'd fallen into, had ended in terror.

No. Sleep was not a possibility tonight.

Andy pulled her legs to her chest, hugging them tightly. Her chin rested on one knee. She focused on keeping her eyes open and thinking about nothing.

o o o

It should have been easy. All he had to do was say no. She would have been annoyed, but she would have been safe. If he'd said no, none of this would have happened. Not that it was all bad. They had caught a serial killer today. Thanks to Andy's inability to leave well enough alone, and Callaghan's complete disregard for her safety.

Alright, maybe that wasn't quite fair. There was really no way Callaghan could have anticipated Andy's movements or Nixon's violent reaction. But Sam wasn't feeling very fair where Luke Callaghan was concerned. _Anybody who cares about you is going to figure it out pretty fast_. His own words echoed in Sam's mind. He hadn't meant to say it out loud. He cared about her. More than he should. He'd known that for months. But he'd never meant to say it out loud.

He'd just bee so _angry_. A part of him had wanted to wound her with his words. The part of him that was irrationally furious at Callaghan, at Rosati, at Andy, but mostly at himself. The part of him that had enjoyed beating Callaghan months earlier in their training exercise, the part of him that wanted to fuck Andy and leave her just so he could stop wanting her so badly he sometimes couldn't breathe, the part of him he was ashamed of. The part that was not always under control.

Instead he'd walked away. It was cowardly, and he hated himself for it, but there'd really been no other option. If he'd stayed he wouldn't have been able to stop himself. From kissing her senseless or from squeezing around her throat and shaking until the red cleared from his vision, he didn't know. He just knew he couldn't think with her near.

So he'd lashed out, the truth a dual aged sword, cutting them both with cruel efficiency. _A Guy who put a ring on your finger and the cheated on you... You can spin the story anyway you want, anybody who cares about you... _

Not that Andy had grasped the real meaning behind his words. Her own pain was too raw for subtleties. He wondered, not for the first time, how much of that pain was because of Callaghan's betrayal and how much was the humiliating realization that people _knew_. Pride she had in spades, and it had to be smarting.

He flipped over in bed with a sigh. It was difficult to settle tonight. The images his mind had conjured were vivid and terrifying. Andy bound and gagged. Nixon wrapping his hands around her throat... and those were just the ones based on reality. His imagination was only too happy to provide a million and nine what-ifs to set his stomach churning.

He was glad she wasn't trying to sleep on Tommy's couch tonight. He'd meant what he said to her in the locker room. He'd seen Tommy's apartment. There was barely room for one in the small, poorly kept space. The tiny apartment was dingy and depressing, definitely not the place to recover from heartbreak - especially not when the other occupant was your own father.

Nash was probably the right person to take care of Andy right now, but even though he knew that, Sam couldn't help wishing she'd needed him.

It had been four months since the blackout. Since he'd fallen asleep with her in his arms, her hair tickling his nostrils. Only to wake to a note and an empty promise. They'd come a long way since, and yet on a night like tonight he felt like he hadn't moved at all. He was still waiting for her to finish the 'something I have to do' and come back to him.

He groaned. It was pathetic really. It had been four months during which she'd moved in with and gotten engaged to another man, and yet he couldn't get her out. She was in his head, his heart, his blood. No matter what she did, there was an invisible, unbreakable string, looped around him tying his happiness to hers.

Tonight she was not happy. She hadn't been happy in a week . He rolled onto his back and started at the ceiling. It was going to be a long night.

* * *

**A/N: Just a quick note for anyone who is following any of my other stories: I'm still mired in real life insanity (moving across the country, not the fun it's cracked up to be let me tell you). **_**Drowning**_** will continue to be updated between episodes until the season is over whether the muses like it or not, but everything else is on hold until life calms down. **

**I hope you enjoyed my take on this week's epic episode. Is anyone else already salivating over next week's promos? **

**Please review! **


	15. Brittle

He'd been pushing her all week. Nothing too hard, but a little something every day. The first week she'd been so focused on pretending everything as okay she'd nearly managed to fool herself and him into believe it would be. But by week two, cracks were beginning to show through her armour. Jo's departure, Callaghan's obvious desperate attempts to bring her back to him, had warped cool calm into brittle, steely control. Sam could almost see the rage boiling just below the surface. It was eating her alive from the inside out.

He spent that week making sure nothing too hard or obnoxious crossed Andy's path, keeping anything that might tear the facade apart at an inopportune moment as far away from her as possible. If she noticed, she said nothing. When two weeks became three and the anger still seethed below an increasingly brittle veneer of calm, Sam started to poke at it. Not always. Only in those moments when it was safe for her to explode. When a blackout rage complete with screaming and breaking shit wouldn't cost her badge. Still, no matter how hard he pushed her, she refused to let it out. She refused to even admit she was angry.

Day by day, the effort of holding it together was taking away the Andy he knew, leaving behind a poor facsimile. It was enough to drive a much better man than Sam Swarek had ever been to take drastic, and potentially disastrous, action.

Sam had always been hyper aware of Andy. Her every movement was picked up, catalogued and pulled out for examination when she wasn't around. He wasn't proud of it, he didn't even mean to most of the time, but he couldn't help himself.

In a way he'd been happy about the quarantine. He wasn't particularly worried about catching a deadly disease, and at least as long as they were shut in and Callaghan was shut out, he could keep her safe. From herself. From Callaghan. From the world.

He'd given up telling himself they were merely partners - she was more than that to him, she had been for a long time now. There was no point pretending her happiness wasn't as important to him as his own. Which meant there was nothing left to do but force her hand. Make her think about Jo, or talk to Callaghan. Simply take denial off the table.

Sam made a mental note to buy Oliver a drink later. If Sam had been the one to suggest calling Callaghan, Andy would have seen right through it. He was pretty sure she'd seen through his attempt to call in Jo, given how fast she'd leapt up to stop him from calling 27 division, even though the next shift out of fifteen would be working out of 27 for as long as fifteen was under quarantine.

But when Oliver, who ostensibly liked Luke Callaghan and who managed to at least give the impression that he wasn't a gossip like the rest of them, had suggested calling Callaghan, there had been nothing for Andy to do but make the call. From the too casual way Oliver had suggested Callaghan, Sam knew his friend had seen the same worrying spiral of denial in Andy Sam had. It was comforting to know he wasn't alone worrying about her.

The conversation with Luke, brief as it was, had clearly rattled Andy, but somehow she'd managed to collect herself in a matter of minutes and lose herself in work. If it hadn't been so painful to behold, Sam might have been impressed with the bull headed way she zeroed in on the job. As it was, he'd barely resisted the impulse to say or do something, anything, to bring the full force of her anger to bear on him. He could take it. Whatever she needed he would be happy to provide, even if it was a punching bag. And then it hit him.

It wasn't perfect, but it was a plan. And if it went well, he could help Andy work off some of her pent up aggression, and have a little fun at the same time.

o o o

Andy collapsed on the mattress on the floor that was passing as a bed until she found time to furnish her new apartment. She was almost too exhausted to kick off her boots and pull a blanket over her body. Physically she was more tired than she'd been in months, but for the first time in three weeks her mind wasn't running in circles. She hated admitting it, but Sam had been right.

Hitting him had felt _good_. Really good. Not that she'd landed many blows. Boxing wasn't her sport at the best of times, and boxing after three weeks of restless nights, mostly on other peoples' couches, and a twenty hour shift had not improved her skills. Still, the impact of fist on flesh, even gloved fist on flesh, was amazingly cathartic. It was as if each swing released a wave of anger until all that was left was bone deep exhaustion.

She'd skipped breakfast, in part because she didn't relish the idea of eating alone, and in part because she was simply too tired. Her apartment, rented last week and unfurnished unless you counted a cheap mattress, a lawn chair and three boxes of things she'd managed to collect from the apartment she'd shared with Luke. She was determined not to see him, so she'd been trying to sneak in to pack when she knew he was at work. So far she'd been successful, but it was slow going.

Burrowing under her white down duvet, Andy could still hear Sam's laughter ringing in her ears. As her heavy eyelids fell closed, his dark eyes, corners crinkled with mirth as he ducked under her swinging fist, were all she saw. For the first time in three weeks Andy fell straight to sleep and did not stir until morning.


	16. Truth

Oliver collapsed on the couch, barely bothering to take his shoes off. He looked absolutely defeated and Sam felt a twinge of guilt followed closely by a snap of anger. Really, what was Oliver thinking asking _Sam_ of all people for relationship advice. Really, anyone at fifteen division could have been more helpful. Hell, even Epstein, for all he was an over-eager puppy, probably had at least one long term relationship under his belt.

"Beer?" He offered. What Sam lacked in relationship savvy he made up for in avoidance techniques. The four pints Oliver downed at the Penny were sure to be wearing off by now. The best thing to do was keep that mellow drunken haze going as long as possible.

Oliver mumbled something that Sam interpreted as 'yes' and a minute later, Sam pressed a cold can of lager into Oliver's hand. "Zoe'll come around."

Oliver laughed bitterly, "Yeah. Because honesty's the best policy, right?"

It was a leading question, and Sam took a swig of beer before answering cautiously, "Sure."

"So I guess that means you finally told her."

"I haven't talked to Zoe in weeks."

"Not Zoe, Andy McNally."

"What about McNally?"

Oliver rolled his eyes. Sam was a bright guy, but he'd elevated playing dumb to an art form. Sometimes it made Oliver want to strangle him."Since you're so big on honesty these days, I guess you finally had that talk."

Sam raised both eyebrows in a look Oliver was familiar with. It was defensiveness in confusion's clothing. Usually Oliver let him get away with it, but not tonight. Tonight he was too drunk and too pissed for pretense.

"Sammy, the only people who don't seem to know you're in love with McNally are you and McNally."

Sam started to say something but Oliver cut him off. "Not tonight, Sammy. Look, you're bad at relationships. No one is more aware of that than me."

Sam snorted but he didn't argue.

"But despite everything, you and McNally… you _work_. And besides, what have you got to lose?"

"My pride?"

"Trust me Brother, pride is overrated."

Hours later, as Sam tossed and turned, unable to find sleep, he replayed the conversation and wondered if Oliver might have a point after all. Andy McNally was not the kind of girl who would stay single forever. Now might be Sam's only chance. The only question that remain was: did he really want to take it?

o o o

Andy slipped into the steaming hot tub with a happy sigh. She'd finally found a home for the rest of her things, and now she was going to soak in a much deserved bubble bat until her saddle-sore muscles stopped aching.

Horse camp was almost over. Next week she would be back at fifteen. For the first time in weeks the thought didn't fill her stomach with butterflies. She'd missed it. Traci, Sam, Peckstein, Oliver… all of the people who made even the worst shifts bearable. Somehow they'd become her family and she missed them. At least Chris had been at the camp so she wasn't completely cut off.

Andy could barely believe how much progress she'd made in just three short days. She didn't know that she would ever have the love of the mounted unit that Bernie Lucas did, but the camp had been exactly what she needed. Away from fifteen, except for morning meetings, she'd been able to breathe and focus on something more than avoiding Luke and appearing fine. She even thought she was getting pretty good, even if Lucas said he'd faked her time so she'd go out with him. The memory made her grin. She wasn't interested, not in him, not really in dating anyone, but it was nice to know she hadn't lost the _it_ that inspired men to ask.

There was a time, not too many days ago, when she thought she had lost it. When the anger and shame had weighed so heavily she thought they might crush her. Weeks ago she'd been certain she would never be the same again, but tonight, at the end of a long, successful day, she felt like herself. As she rested her head against the back of the tub and closed her eyes, she wondered if Sam would notice.

o o o

**A/N: Sorry this one is so short, but it was a choice between short of not at all this week so I went for short. Next week is officially moving week and I don't yet have internet in my new place, so if I disappear off the map I swear I will be back as soon as they can get me wired for internet again.  
**


	17. Near Miss

The flashing red and white of a fire truck were the first thing Sam noticed as they made their way back to the crash site. The fire department had never been so welcome. He'd hated leaving Andy alone with the driver, but there had been no choice. When the smoke hit his nostrils, relief was replaced by a knot of cold fear in his stomach.

Shaw!" He called over his shoulder, "Take Elliot." He handed the little boy off to Oliver, barely glancing at his friend. She was nowhere to be seen. The cold fist tightened around his stomach as he rounded the burnt out shell. If she'd been in it... "Andy!" He called, acrid smoke burned his eyes but still there was no sign of her. "Andy!"

And then she was there, saying him name and smiling her beautiful smile. Relief crashed over him like a wave.

He closed the distance between them in two short strides.

"I'm okay." Her voice was breathless, almost giddy. "I got her out like just before it went up."

Sam shot another look over his shoulder thanking God and anyone else he could think of that Andy hadn't been in it when it went up. "If I'd know the car was going to catch on fire..." His eyes ran over her body, checking for any hidden injuries.

"No it's okay. The medic says she's going to be fine."

"Should've radioed." Sam's heart was still thudding a little too quickly in his chest and he had to fight an irrational need to shake Andy and tell her she was never to do anything like this again. She was a cop; danger was part of the job. It didn't mean he had to like it, but he had to accept it.

"You were miles out, and," her tone turned teasing, her smile warm, "y'know, the car was on fire I had that whole thing to deal with." She sobered, "You get the boy?"

"We found him, yeah."

If possible she grinned even harder than before, "Good"

Sam scanned the scene. It was chaotic, they always were, but there was really nothing he or Andy were needed for. Their part, except the unavoidable paperwork, was done. He met Andy's gaze. The expression in her eyes wiped the smile off his face and robbed him of breath. Almost without thought, he leaned towards her. She leaned in too and for a glorious second he thought they might kiss, but then he realized where they were and his common sense and self preservation kicked into high gear. He straightened, already feeling a pang of regret. She'd been so close. So close he could almost taste her.  
Andy smiled and stepped past him, out of range before he could form a single word to ask her to stay.

Not that he had a clue what to say. He was going deep cover again in a few short weeks. Now was not the time to try and win her. He could only hope she wasn't engaged to another man before he saw her again.

He didn't expect her to wait for him, but he has spent too long waiting for her. It was time to move on. Before Andy, all he'd wanted was guns and gangs and now here was Boyd, practically begging Sam to do what he loved most about being a cop. It was an offer he couldn't refuse.

o o o

"Hey Banjo," Andy crooned, running both hands over the silver tabby's silken back. Andy had never had a pet. Her mother had been allergic and Tommy had never been home long enough to care for a goldfish, let alone a cat. She scratched absently as the cat purred away. "Who's gunna take care of you, now huh?"

Banjo rolled to his side completely oblivious to the fact that his owner wouldn't be coming home ever again. Andy sighed. She'd done everything she could, but it hadn't been enough.

She looked around the apartment. There was a half loaf of bread on one counter, a pencil rested on a music stand below a half-written song. All signs of a life interrupted. She picked up the bottle of 'really good champagne' Leslie had been saving for when her music was perfect, until her life was perfect.

_You gotta save the good stuff_

_Why?_

Sam's question rang in her head. Why indeed. The reasons were less clear this evening than they'd been in the morning. Saving the good stuff meant you always had something to look forward to. But tonight, standing in a dead woman's apartment holding the good stuff in her hands, it suddenly felt like saving the good stuff meant a life of the gross candy and a lot of wasted good stuff.

_So, if future you hooking up with Sam Swarek?_

That morning she'd said no. She'd only been single for five weeks, she needed to find a condo to buy, she wanted to prove herself at work, and she would have time to think about relationships, about Sam, when she'd fixed the mess her life had become. But then Sam announced he was going deep cover for God knew how long, and Leslie died, and her ten year plan wasn't so important anymore. For once, Andy was going to have the good stuff first and deal with the rest later.

She reached for her phone. Butterflies flying dizzy circles in her stomach, she pressed speed dial 2.

o o o

Sam tossed his unopened mail on the table by the window. He would deal with that later, tomorrow maybe, when he had the brain power to care. Tonight he was exhausted. They'd found Elliot and he was safe, but now an estranged father would be going to prison for kidnapping and vehicular manslaughter. It was hard to feel good about that.

His phone rang, unnaturally loud in silent room. Sam answered without looking at the call display.

"Sam," Detective Boyd's voice was tense, "You sober?"

Sam snorted, "Yeah."

"Good. We need to move tonight."

"What?"

"That UC gig, we got word that Brennan is pulling a crew together. If we don't get someone in, we're going to miss our window."

Sam's exhausted brain fought to follow the detective's rapid speech. "When?"

"You're still in?" The relief was palpable.

"Yeah." As he said it, sealing himself in for weeks or maybe months of living a new identity, far away from everyone he cared about, an image of Andy, inches away, eyes serious, the scent of her hair filling his nostrils, flashed across his mind and he felt a pang of regret. It was very possible he was ruining his best shot with her, but it wasn't in his nature to pass up this kind of opportunity. Sam wasn't a planner, he didn't save the good things in life until later, he grabbed opportunities like this one with both hands and, no matter how he felt about Andy McNally, Sam wasn't ready to give up who he was. He'd been doing that too much in the last eight months.

"How soon can you be ready?"

Sam did a mental calculation of the things he had to take care of before he could leave, "Give me half an hour?"

"Okay, I'll pick you up. Don't worry about Frank or your place, we can have someone take care of all of that tomorrow."

Sam nodded even though Boyd couldn't see. "Alright."

He ended the call and for a moment his fingers hovered over the keypad. He thought of calling Andy, but stopped. He'd told her about the undercover assignment, she would find out the rest soon enough. He refused to admit to himself that if he heard her voice, if there was any sign she wanted him to stay, he might not be able to walk away.

o o o

The butterflies in Andy's stomach did not stop fluttering the entire drive. She pulled in front of Sam's house and killed the engine, pausing to check her hair in the rear view mirror and then laughed at herself. Sam had seen her covered in soot, other people's blood, and at the end of a ten hour shift in 40 degree weather, he wasn't likely to complain if her hair had frizzed a little from the light snow that had been falling off and on all day. She took a deep breath and stepped out into the street.

There were no lights on in Sam's place, but that wasn't really unusual. Sam's TV was in a room near the back of the place. Andy knocked on the wooden part of the door and stepped back, resisting the urge to check her hair yet again.

There was no answer. She pulled out her phone and hit speed dial, it went straight to voicemail. With a frustrated sigh Andy sank down to the porch. Trust Sam to choose tonight as the night he stayed at the Penny until all hours. Well, she could wait. She'd never known Sam to be out of touch for long.

Twenty minutes later, Andy was frozen to the core and still hadn't heard a word from Sam. She checked her watch, it was almost ten. She rose to her feet, telling herself it was alright, they had three weeks, they could be together tomorrow, but not quite believing it. She hit Sam's number one last time, "Hey Sam, you're not home so I'm headed back to my place. Call me when you get this. See you tomorrow."

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**A/N: Apart from the very first section, this fic was written on an airplane, and I'm now sitting in a Starbucks parking lot uploading it from my netbook. Thank you Starbucks for the awesome free WiFi! Move is going great so far, but still internetless and mostly surrounded by boxes. I won't get to see this week's ep until probably Monday so please no spoilers in the comments :D **


	18. More

**A/N:** This is the last chapter of Drowning. I know we've still got an episode to come this season, and a whole season after that, but this feels like a very natural conclusion for this series and so I'm calling it a wrap. Thank you everyone who has read and reviewed along the way, this has been really fun. I hope you enjoy it!

_This chapter contains situations suitable for __**adults only**_.

* * *

**More **

"Look who's back." There was a note of amusement in Jamie Brennan's voice as he looked past Sam.

Sam turned, and for a moment his heart stopped. _Andy?_ What the hell was she doing there? And where was Traci? Sam's brain raced through a dozen different scenarios, Traci was hurt... dead... missing... Andy was in trouble... she'd taken a taste to prove she wasn't a cop and now she was tripping out of her mind... they'd gotten cocky and pissed off Donnie... But no, she looked too calm for any of that. Still, that didn't stop his heart from thudding painfully against his ribs.

"Hey," She was nervous, he could tell by the tightness in her voice.

"Hey," he responded, begging her with his eyes not to need him. If she needed him he knew he would go, and he couldn't break cover, couldn't let this be the second UC operation he blew in under a year because he couldn't get away from her.

"Um, I'm gonna be on a plane in a couple hours, back to Appleton, and I'll be gone, out of your life..."

Sam couldn't stop his mouth from dropping slightly. She wouldn't.. she didn't... Not here. Not tonight, with Jamie Brennan sitting close enough to hear and see everything.

"So if you're not doing anything for the next couple hours... Maybe..."

She was. Sam cursed the universe. For the better part of a year he'd been waiting for this, hoping for it, thinking it might never happen.. they'd come close once, but he'd gotten sick of waiting and he'd taken this job. And now here she was, propositioning him, albeit awkwardly, and he had to say no.

"I-I'm with my boss."

"Right," the sparkle in her eyes dimmed.

"And I wouldn't want you to miss your flight." he held her eyes, trying to convey how desperately he wanted to say yes even as his lips poured out the right words. Words that would save their jobs, even if they felt like they were being individually ripped from his chest.

"Okay," She nodded, her expression closing off, her voice took on a business like tone, "then I'm gone." She turned and walked away.

Sam half reached for her before he could stop himself, but she was gone, and he had work to do. He stared after her until she disappeared from view, hoping against hope she would turn back one more time. She didn't.

Behind him Jamie snorted with laughter.

Sam sat back down at the bar, shoving the crushing disappointment and bitter anger down so he could bring his focus back to the task at hand. They were going to bring this son of a bitch down and once they did Sam would... well he wasn't sure what, but he would figure it out. Whatever it was, he would make damn sure Andy knew how he felt. And if he was very lucky, she would feel the same.

"We got business you and me," Jamie broke the silence.

Sam forced all thoughts of Andy from his mind before looking up, "Yes we do."

"We can catch up on that business tomorrow, or the next day, or the day after that." Jamie was smiling, "A woman like that doesn't knock on your door every day." Sam stared at him incredulously for a moment, half waiting for the other shoe to drop. But Jamie kept smiling. "Go on, we'll do business tomorrow."

Moth quirking into a half smile Sam stood and with a final glance at his boss, turned to follow Andy out of the bar.

o o o

"This is me," Sam pulled the car into a numbered slot and killed the engine. For the first time since leaving the Alpine he allowed his eyes to meet hers. She smiled and he took a deep steadying breath. God he'd missed her. But not matter how much he wanted it, nothing could happen tonight. There was too much on the line. He had to focus on the job. Now more than ever he needed this operation to go smoothly. He wanted his life back as soon as possible.

Andy was the first to move. She opened the passenger door and climbed out into the cold night. Sam was right behind her. At the door of his apartment he placed a hand on her shoulder and stopped her. "Gimme a second, just gotta turn off the cameras."

She nodded and leaned against the wall while he fished keys out of his pocket and entered the apartment alone. Flicking a couple switches turned off all of the surveillance equipment in his apartment. There was a pile of dirty laundry in one corner which he hastily threw in a hamper before opening the door. "Come on in."

Andy hesitated at the door before entering the apartment. "So what you can just turn the cameras off, they don't care?" she asked, shedding her winter coat.

"I gotta have some kind of life, right?" He smiled, reaching for her coat. They really didn't care when the cameras were on or off, though technically he was only supposed to turn them off when he was alone. But the part about having a life was a joke. Under normal circumstances, Sam loved UC. The work was challenging and almost always interesting, and the department was paying for rent of a decent bachelor apartment. This time though, he couldn't be done fast enough. He'd thrown himself into the case, working day and night, only breaking to shit, shower and sleep, consciously forcing his mind not to dwell on what he might have left behind.

Andy handed off her coat, "I guess."

Their eyes met. She looked so good, so at home in his place. Sam wanted nothing more than to take her in his arms, kiss her perfect lips, carry her to his bed, but they couldn't. Not tonight. "I'm going to call you a cab, it's going to take you back to the station and you're going to get into your uniform." He begged her to agree, even as he desperately hoped she would stay.

Andy turned away before he'd even finished speaking. Walking further into the apartment. She unbuttoned the lowest button on her shirt."No." The next button followed and Sam felt his resolve crumbling.

He followed her, still clutching her coat in both hands like a shield. She undid another button, holding his gaze with eyes full of promise. Sam closed the distance between them. He couldn't stay away. She sat on his table and he stood so close their legs brushed. "If you don't leave now, there's no going back." The tiny corner of his mind that was still working normally told him to force her out, but even that part knew he wouldn't be able to. All he could do was give her this last chance to run and hope to God that she didn't take it.

"I don't want to go back." Her eyes on his were warm and fearless. So different from last time.

He dropped her coat and stepped closer, his thigh hitting the edge of the table as his fingers brushed against the soft cotton of her shirt. He cupped one hand around her face and leaned in. Andy tilted her face up to meet him. For one breathless moment Sam hesitated. They'd gone this far once before, and then she'd run... but that was months ago, she was different now, _they_ were different. He let the doubt fly away as his lips touched hers.

The first kiss was slow. Sam ran his thumb over Andy's cheek as he opened her mouth with his own. His arms slid around her, pulling her closer. Andy ran her hands restlessly up his arms and over his chest. He cradled the base of her skull as his tongue explored the inside of her mouth with sudden urgency. It wasn't enough, he needed more of her.

They broke apart, both breathing heavily. Sam made quick work of his shirt, Andy's lithe hands helping him push it over his head. It fell to the floor unheeded. For a moment Sam just drank in the sight of Andy, cheeks flushed, breathing rapid, dark eyes giving his chest an appreciative once over. Her bangs were falling in one eye and he gently brushed them aside. He trailed kisses across her face and down her neck.

Andy gasped for breath, planting both hands against his bare chest. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes dark with arousal.

Sam turned his attention to the last two buttons on her shirt, pulling them free with little effort. He wrapped both hands around her shirt and used it to pull her close. He rested his forehead against hers for a moment, locking gazes. He stepped back and bent. In a swift movement he lifted her into his arms.

Andy twined both arms around his neck, cupping the back of his head with one hand as he claimed her lips. Sam carried her to the bed, and lay her back against the green quilt.

Andy half sat, pulling out her hair clip and tossing it aside. Sam slid one knee between her legs, and used both hands to push her shirt off her shoulders. He ran his hands over her, memorizing the soft warmth of her skin.

Sam used both hands on her ass to pull her tight against him. She tilted her hips, rubbing herself against his thigh. Her head fell back, and she moaned softly, rocking against him, seeking her own pleasure.

The clasp of her bra gave way easily under Sam's fingers and he pushed the straps down her shoulders. She let go of him long enough to toss it aside before twining both arms around his neck. With feather-light fingers, Sam caressed the length of Andy's back before bringing one hand between them and pinching her dusky nipple. She gasped and arched against him as he increased the pressure almost to the point of pain. He released her nipple, palming her breast gently as he sought her lips with his own.

She slid one hand through his hair, raking his scalp lightly with her fingernails. The movements of her hips against him sped up, becoming erratic as she reached the edge. Sam broke their kiss and dropped his mouth to her breast. He sucked her erect nipple between his lips, swirling his tongue slowly around the stiff peak. Andy gasped his name, her body going rigid as an orgasm crashed over her. Sam held her against him, mouth working slowly over her breasts until she went limp in his arms.

Gently, he lowered her to the bed. He kissed her firmly before pulling back. He rose to his feet, undoing his belt and letting his jeans fall to the floor before reaching for hers. He took his time, trailing open mouthed kisses along her belly before reaching for the fly. He slid the jeans down inch by inch, trailing soft caresses and wet kisses as he went.

Andy shifted impatiently, her hands bunching the blanket beneath her.

Grinning, Sam tugged her panties down and blew a stream of cool air across her center.

"Sam," she groaned his name.

The desperation in her tone sent a shockwave of need straight to his groin. He pulled her jeans and panties free in a single tug and removed his underwear before joining her on the bed.

Andy sat up and pulled him into a kiss, her tongue ravaging his mouth. They shifted up on the bed and Andy lay back against the pillows, pulling him with her.

Her breasts pressed against his chest and his throbbing erection brushed against the inside of her thigh. She arched against him and Sam ran one hand over her center. One finger and then two dipped between her swollen lips, testing her readiness. She was dripping wet and so hot. Sam forced himself to breathe deeply as he positioned himself over her entrance. He wanted this to last.

Supporting his weight with both arms on the bed, Sam slid into her slowly. Her muscles stretched around him as he buried his length inside her. He stayed still for a moment, breathing deep but harsh as he tried to regain control.

Andy cupped his cheek with one hand, bringing his eyes to hers. Dark eyes locked, they began to move. Sam pulled nearly all the way out before sliding back in. He started slow but it wasn't long before the thrusts came more quickly. Andy wrapped her legs around him, changing the angle so he hit every part of her.

She dug her nails into his shoulder, mouth open in wordless pleasure as a second orgasm contracted her muscles. With one more thrust Sam joined her. He circled his hips against hers, putting pressure on her clit to draw out her orgasm as best he could before collapsing beside her.

He pulled her against his chest and for several minutes the only sound in the apartment was their panting.

o o o

"I can't ever come back here," there was a physical ache as she said the words. It wasn't fair. The moment she figured out how she felt about Sam he was gone, and now she was so close to him she could feet his pulse thrumming against her and she had to walk away. It was almost unbearable. "Never." She scanned his face, trying to memorize the look in his eyes.

She'd really thought this would help, that somehow it would be easier once she'd had him. _When it really matters you don't think_. She'd been so infuriated by those words, but they were true. Seeing him in the bar she hadn't been able to think, had barely managed to breathe. It had taken all her self control to act relatively normal and not to throw her arms around him. When she'd gone back into the bar she'd promised herself that it would be easier. That walking away and waiting for Sam to come home would be easier when he knew how she felt. That the ache in her chest and the nauseous churning in her stomach were because Sam didn't know, not because he wasn't there. So like an idiot, she'd ignored the promise she'd made to Tracy and the warning she'd already had from Sam and she'd sought him out. Like an addict's first hit of heroin he was in her blood now and seeing him wasn't enough anymore, she needed to feel him, taste him.

The weeks since he'd gone undercover had been hard. She'd never been good at time or space. But this was so much harder. She'd had a taste and it was good and now all she wanted was more. More of his smiles, more of his laughter rumbling against her, more of his lips on hers and his hands all over... just more of Sam.

It had never been this hard before. Not with any of her past relationships. But this wasn't Luke or Matthew or any of the nameless losers she'd dated in high school, this was Sam and everything was different. With those other men she'd lived a parallel life, sometimes they'd intersect for an hour or a night, but they didn't stay with her. Not like Sam. Every minute he was there, sometimes she missed him so much it hurt, other times he was the gentle voice whispering reason when her mind tried to run in circles. Every thought that mattered, every hope for her future, and every fear was hopelessly tangled up in him. She belonged to him. It was terrifying.

It was glorious.

"No," Sam covered her hand with his, bringing her back to the present. "And you have to go."

Andy nodded, leaning closer "Yeah, I do."

Sam's arm wrapped around her, pulling her closer as their lips met. Andy leaned into the kiss, rolling her body over Sam's. She could feel the beginnings of his erection against her thigh and she reached one hand down to wrap around his shaft. He groaned appreciatively into her mouth as she caressed the sensitive under side with her finger tips.

One day, when they had all the time in the world she was going to learn how to make him scream, but right then all she wanted was him inside her. She kissed his neck, the stubble along his jaw brushed roughly at her cheek. His cock grew hard in her hands and Andy sat up, letting the sheet fall away as she straddled him.

Sam gazed up at her, dark eyes drinking in the sight of her, mouth slack, as she raised herself up and dropped, taking him inside her in a single motion. Her breasts bounced lightly against her chest as she rocked back and forth slowly, closing her eyes to savour the sensation.

His calloused fingers ran lightly over her thighs, up her stomach. He brushed the underside of her breasts, sending shivers down her spine. Andy arched her back, giving him better access to her breasts. He pinched her nipples hard enough to make her groan before resuming his gentle caresses. Andy kept up the gentle pace, rocking forward until her clit ground against his pelvis and then back again as Sam's skilled hands explored her body.

He slid two fingers between them, finding her clit and pressing against it. She threw her head back, "Yes, right there." Already she could feel an orgasm building. She rocked faster, swivelling her hips to increase the friction.

Sam's hips began to move in time with hers and he went over the edge. She ground against him as he spilled into her. His fingers circled her clit and it wasn't long before she came, back arching in wanton pleasure.

She collapsed against him, kissing him hungrily before rolling off. Reluctantly she sat at the edge of the bed and reached for her discarded clothing. Sam kissed her neck as he too rose to dress.

"I'll call you a cab." He said running a gentle hand through her hair.

Andy nodded. She pulled on her panties and jeans and quickly buttoned up her shirt. Her hair clip was nowhere to be found, but she ran her fingers through her hair and decided that was going to be good enough.

"They'll be here in five minutes," Sam said, setting down his phone.

"Okay." She closed the distance between them as if pulled by invisible strings. He'd pulled on his jeans but no shirt and looked every inch like he'd just been fucked senseless. Andy wondered if she looked the same.

Sam tucked her hair behind her ear. "You can't come back here."

She nodded. "I know."

Their lips met in a final, desperate kiss. It tasted like goodbye.

o o o

Andy sank back against the drab grey interior of the taxi. She had less than an hour to make it to the station and into uniform, but she was too sated to care. Sam knew how she felt, and better than that, he felt the same way. They'd spent a wonderful night wrapped up in each other and it was only a matter of time before he came home and they could spent every night together. It might be weeks, or months... it didn't matter. For Sam, Andy would figure out how to wait.

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**A/N: **Thank you again everyone who has read and reviewed along the way. I hope you've had as much fun with this story as I have and that you'll take a moment to leave a review.


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